Life is but a Game Within a Dream or
by Aseret Kitsune
Summary: School is Never Cool. RvB Au. Slash, het. High school is full of pain, tears, heartache, virginity, and sex. Also, relationships, unrequited love, family, and the inability to say those three words that either make or break a relationship.
1. Prologue

**AN:** Well, her I am with that story that started out as a drabble. This is similar to the drabble, but with quite a few changes here and there. Hope you all enjoy.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far I've got Grif/Simmons, one-sided Donut/Caboose and Caboose/Sheila, and later on there will be some Church/Tex.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Slash, cheerleading, football, and Grif paying more attention to Simmons' ass than the ball. Oh, and don't forget that Donut's a keychain whore, ahem, collector who needs to come out to his father (about being gay).

Prologue

Assuaging Opponents

Or

Meeting an Enemy

It was the biggest game of the year: the Red Warthogs versus the Blue Tanks. They were rival schools in all sports, and today was the final football game of the season between the two teams. It was known as the "Red versus Blue war" by student, parent, and faculty alike.

"I hope we do our Pyramid right today," Donut commented, adjusting his pink and white pom-poms. Franklin Delano Donut, known only as Donut by his friends, was the head cheerleader for the Reds, as the team was referred to.

"Don't worry, Donut, we'll do fine. Oh, my god. You're not wearing pink instead of red _again_, are you?" Ashley a bubbly sixteen-year-old brunette and one of Donut's close friends, asked. "That's not exactly school spirit, or fashionable. Hot pink is so much better."

"It's not pink, Ashley! It's light red. Very light red," Donut defended, crossing his arms. The girl rolled her eyes, used to her friend's denial.

"Sure, whatever."

Donut smoothed out his skirt, which was indeed white and pink as opposed to everyone else's red and white uniforms, when suddenly all the girls were screaming and yelling. He looked up to see his cousin, Dexter Grif, being hit with random things thrown by the other cheerleaders.

"Ladies, ladies. There's plenty of me to go around. I love you all, too," the intruder joked dryly, ducking behind his smaller cousin. "Okay, Donut, call them off." The pink clad cheerleader rolled his eyes as the others went back to what they were doing before the trespasser entered, taking minimal time to shoot him hateful glares.

"Grif, this is the girls' locker room, you know guys aren't allowed."

"Yet you're in here," he pointed out.

"Well, duh. It's okay if I'm here, I'm gay," Donut replied. And it was true; Donut was one of the -_only_- out-and-proud gay students at the school.

"Yeah, well I'm bi."

"So? You still like girls."

"None of these girls, if you can call them that," Grif mumbled. "Besides I have a boyfriend who fulfills _all_ my needs."

"Anyway, why are you here?" Donut asked to change the subject, tying up his dirty blonde hair with a pink scrunchy. He had no desire to hear about Grif's sex life when he didn't have one of his own.

"I'm hiding from Sarge," Grif replied, referring to his football coach _and _his aforesaid boyfriend's adoptive father.

"What did you do? Or should I ask who?"

"I didn't do anything! He just hates me!" Grif defended himself.

Donut grinned and said, "The game's gonna start soon. Go get ready." Grif, grumbling, did as told, hoping his lover's father wouldn't kill him.

(There's a new setting here.)

"Red's the best! Blue sucks! They couldn't beat us even if we didn't give a fu-" The chant was interrupted by Sarge.

"Girls!"

Secretly he winked at them, loving the cheer. He'd rather all of them didn't get banned form the game for profanity, though.

"Look alive, men!" Sarge yelled to the team. "Grif! Watch the ball, not Simmons' ass!"

All the cheerleaders giggled as they sat down on the sideline, tired from their excessive and passionate cheering. The game was tied 32 to 32, with a minute until halftime. Things were getting intense, the crowd was getting louder, and the girls were getting gossipy.

"My god, those Blues have some bad players," Ashley commented. Donut nodded in agreement. "That number 13 guy is _horrible, _and number ½ isn't much better. It looks like they just keep arguing with each other. And what kind of number is ½, anyways?"

Donut shrugged before deciding to add to the conversation, taking it in a different direction. "Their two new players are really good, though."

"Yeah. Can you believe -1's strength? Or his number? It's amazing! And 00 is a girl! Can you believe it?"

"She's really good. Her name's Allison, right?" It was times like this Donut was glad he paid attention to his friend who knew everything about the Blues: Frank "Doc" DuFresne.

"Yeah, I think so, but everyone calls her Tex. That's where she came from, Texas."

"Mm. What's the new guy's name? -1's?" Donut asked.

"Something Caboose, I think. I heard he's kinda cute."

"Mm."

Just then the whistle blew, signaling halftime. As the players went to the benches, Grif and Simmons flirting while trying to avoid Sarge's intense glare, the girls and Donut went out onto the field for their big show.

Flawlessly they executed their cheers and movements, even the Pyramid, the one they'd been having the most trouble on. Donut grinned along with the others as the crowd (On the Red side, anyways) clapped and hooted. Donut could feel the combined glares of the Blue cheerleaders.

They moved off the field and the Red Drill Team came on. Donut waved to Grif's sister, Karen (though she shortened her name to Kerry), mouthing "good luck." She waved back, thanking him wordlessly. They didn't do too badly themselves; a few freshmen were a beat slow and Kerry started doing the wrong moves several different times, but it wasn't that noticeable.

Then the Blue cheerleaders stormed the field. It was their turn and they planned to wow the masses. Which they did, of course. They were spectacular. Donut blamed in on their head cheerleader: Sheila Cannon. In her slightly different uniform (a gray-blue tank top with a black skirt opposed of the blue and white uniforms of the others) and her perfect bouncing figure, not to mention her enthusiasm and original cheers (Blue Rocks! Red Blows! Their lack of talent really shows!), it was easy to see how good she was. Donut had been jealous of her since day one.

The Blue cheerleaders left the field, looking too smug for their own good, and on came their Drill Team. Donut, not wanting to watch, got up and started walking off.

"Where are you going?" Ashley called out. Donut just shrugged in reply, not turning around.

Ten minutes later Donut found himself in the back of the school. It was the Blue school, and Donut hoped he'd be able to find his way back. He looked around curiously and spotted the hunched figure of a Blue football player. He quietly went over the other boy and read the number on the back of his uniform: -1.

"What's the matter?" Donut asked, his voice soft as he knelt down next to the Blue.

The football player looked up and blinked dumbly at Donut. The cheerleader noticed that his eyes were slightly red.

"Sheila doesn't love me," the Blue replied, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

"There, there," Donut comforted, patting the heartbroken teen's back gently. He suddenly hated the Blue cheerleader more than he ever had.

After a minute of the Blue sniffling and Donut rubbing up and down his back soothingly, -1 said, "I'm Michael, but everyone calls me Caboose. What's your name?"

"I'm Franklin, but you can call me Donut," the pink cheerleader replied. "Hello, Caboose." Donut smiled at him, and Caboose returned it.

"I like donuts," Caboose told him. They both shared a short-lived laugh as a voice called out, breaking their moment.

"Hey, Caboose! Halftime's over. You're needed. And Tex made me come find you because apparently I'm the worst player."

Donut and Caboose both turned towards the newcomer. He held a sky blue helmet carelessly in one hand, the other he ran through his unruly dark brown hair. His uniform read 13.

"Hiya, Church!" Caboose greeted cheerfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go," Church sighed.

Caboose rose, bringing Donut up with him. He turned towards the cheerleader and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"See you later, Muffins."

Caboose walked past his teammate, oblivious to Donut's blush (both from the kiss and the odd-but likable-nickname). Church started to follow, but then turned back towards Donut.

"Thanks, Pinkie," he said, and then went to catch up with Caboose. Donut simply nodded, in shock, until the words became concrete in his mind.

"It's not pink! It's light red!" Donut yelled after him. "…And you're welcome," he whispered, delicately touching the spot where Caboose had kissed him.


	2. Chapter 1 Taking care of the Capable

**A/N:** Here I am with the first chapter. I know at least some of you are enjoying this. That's good. I'll just post this up and go back to sleep (Forensics Tournaments are tiring). Oh, and for the record, Lopez will be able to speak English and Spanish in this.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there is Grif/Simmons in abundance, one-sided Donut/Caboose and Caboose/Sheila, and Church/Tex, and hints of Kerry/Doc.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Slash, cussing, and teens having and wanting sex.

Chapter 1

Taking care of the Capable  
Or  
Doing Dirty Things in Clean Places  
(and not letting family do the same)

They had lost the game, 42-36. Everyone on the Red team was in a bad mood save for Donut, who was glowing. (Well, Grif didn't care, as long as Sarge didn't take it out on him…Unfortunately, Sarge _did _take it out on him.)

Donut hummed to himself as he discarded his uniform and other cheerleader paraphernalia for a tight, light pink shirt, light blue jeans with a pocket in the shape and coloring of a flower, and a denim belt. He was putting his things into his bag when the locker room door burst open and Grif entered.

The girls glared and insulted the intruder, mad from the game's loss and being upstaged by the Blue cheerleaders. He ignored them as he ran over to Donut. His eye was twitching and Grif wasn't looking directly at Donut but, rather, past him.

"Sarge?" he guessed. Grif nodded. After a minute, he told his cousin what had happened.

"He was looking for me, to yell at me, and he found me and Simmons…alone together in the showers…I was giving him a hand job to loosen him up."

"Nice," Donut commented with a laugh. "So what did Sarge do?"

"I was able to get away while he was staring wide-eyed. Simmons just got dressed. In retrospect, it was really hilarious." Donut agreed; he hadn't even been there and he was almost doubled-over in laughter!

"You know he's gonna work you harder now, right?" Donut pointed our.

"Work? He's going to _kill _me," Grif said, clearly pronouncing every word slowly as if it would make Donut realize the seriousness of the situation.

"Eh, probably," Donut said in agreement, shrugging carelessly. He finished putting away his things in his pink and sparkly duffle bag-with a daffodil keychain on one handle.

"Thanks for all the overwhelming concern," Grif said sardonically.

"Welcome. Now come on, let's go. Kerry said she'd be waiting by the car," Donut told his cousin, picking up his duffle bag.

"I need my bag," Grif muttered, turning around and walking out of the girl's locker room, the majority of the occupants glaring at or cursing him, sometimes both.

"I'll come with," Donut called out after him, waving goodbye to the squad and trying to catch up with Grif's long and quick strides.

He saw his cousin enter a room down the hall and Donut sighed; Grif only moved fast when he wanted something done and over with, which usually meant everyone else had to keep up. _Goddamn jock, _he thought bitterly. A goddamn jock who rarely ever used his talents (what reluctant few he had).

When the dirty blonde reached the locker room door, he heard little sound emitting form the room; he assumed everyone had already left. They probably were all too depressed by the lack of victory to stay for long. The cheerleader opened the door, proving himself correct; the only one there was Grif.

He stood in front of the lockers, eyes intensely eating up every word on a note he held between his hands. He was grinning widely, an action that piqued Donut's curiosity.

He bound over to his cousin who hadn't as of yet noticed the smaller male. He peeked over Grif's shoulder to see Simmons' neat, precise cursive handwriting. There was nary a single, tiny smug on the whole sheet. However, it did seem more rushed then his usual writing. _Perfectionist, _Donut thought with a dramatic roll of his eyes. Moving along in his thoughts, he began to read the letter.

_Dex,_

_Sarge is, to say the least, extremely pissed. He hasn't said a word to me, or even met me eye-to-eye. (Not that I'd rather him and I got into a staring/glaring or yelling match.)_

_Meet me tonight at midnight. I'll be under our tree waiting. Don't be late, cockbite. I have to study for finals, and so do you._

_Love,_

_Dick_

"Aw, how sweet. 'Our tree,'" Donut taunted. "And he called you by your first name."

"Shut the fuck up," Grif growled, folding the note carefully before shoving it into his pocket. He picked up his bag and made towards the door. "Hurry up and let's go."

Donut, smart grin in place, followed after his cousin pleasantly. He was not surprised at Grif's "cool-guy" act; he had a tough exterior. On the inside, though, he was sweet. Still an asshole and a lazy smartass, but sweet none-the-less.

"You're too fuckin' slow. Hurry up; I've got things to do," Grif called back.

"More like you've got _someone_ to do," Donut mumbled, too low for his cousin to hear. "Coming!" he told Grif in an overly cheerful-and exceedingly girlish-tone, skipping after the other teen.

XXX

Kerry Grif leaned against the reddish-orange '98 Mazda 626 (or whatever the hell her brother called it). The car had a few dents, scrapes, and cases where the paint had or was peeling off, but all-in-all it was a good, reliable vehicle. _Too_ _bad on the coloring, though,_ Kerry thought. Then again, she had red/green color blindness-the inability to distinguish reds, orange, yellow, or purples. She saw them all as blue.

"It's too bad about the game," Frank DuFresne commented. "But you were really great out on the field.

"Thanks, Doc" Kerry said, smiling slyly.

Frank "Doc" DuFresne was studying to be a nurse, hence the nickname Doc. He was neither a student at the Red school or Blue school. Rather, he went to a different school entirely, only going to the competitive games to see his friends, who happened to be on both teams.

Suddenly, a familiar and intimidating shadow fell over Doc. Gulping, he turned around to see Grif. It would have been fine, if he hadn't been alone with Kerry.

"You, move. You, get in the car," he ordered.

"Aw, you never let me have any fun," the girl whined.

"Don't argue."

"Fine," Kerry conceded, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms stubbornly. "Bye, Doc."

"Uh, see you later, Kerry…" She got into the Mazda's passenger's seat reluctantly. "So, uh, hey Grif…" He gave a small, nervous chuckle.

Grif gave no reply as he bypassed Doc and opened the car door. Getting in, he whipped out the keys and put them into the ignition.

"Don't mind him," Donut said to Doc. "He's just being a good overprotective brother." He flashed a smile to the scowling Grif. "Grif doesn't want anyone besides him and Simmons to have sex."

"Donut, get in the car, now, or I'll leave you," he growled, turning the key.

"Hey, Doc. Guess what Sarge caught Grif doing to Simmons, right in the showers of the boy's locker room."

"What?" he asked. Grif revved the engine.

"He was giving Simmons a-" Donut took a quick look around, making sure no one else besides he, Doc, Grif, and Kerry could hear. "Hand job," he finished with a grin. His cousin started to pull out. "Okaygottagobye!" he rushed, speedily getting into the car. Doc waved as the car, recklessly, left the parking lot.

"You're a real bitch, Grif," Kerry told him with a wry faced glare.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," he replied.

"You know, maybe I want to lose my virginity."

"What!" Grif exclaimed, swerving the car. He barely missed a collision as he got himself under control.

"Yeah, Grif," Donut jumped in. "I do, too. You always chase away our boyfriends," he pouted.

"You shut up." Kerry opened her mouth to apparently make a retort. "Both of you."

There was silence in the car, no one wanting to surrender by turning on the radio. Donut watched the landscape go by as he thought about the game, his encounter with Michael J. Caboose in particular. Grif kept his eyes narrowed on the road, and Kerry stared straight ahead, though taking nothing in. Finally, the girl decided to speak.

"So, is what Donut said true? Did you really get caught by Sarge giving your boyfriend a hand job?"

"Would I lie?" Donut replied, faking offense.

"Goddamn it, both of you shut up!" Grif yelled, pulling into their driveway.

Turning off the car and grabbing his bag, he got out and slammed the door. Donut and Kerry followed, the former beaming, the latter still pouting slightly. Donut watched Grif storm into the house.

"Moody," he mumbled. Kerry nodded, following after her brother. Donut went in as well, unconsciously humming.

"Hey, kids. How was the game?" Donut's father, a thirty-eight-year-old, crisp brown haired man, asked. He sat at the kitchen table, a cup of decaf in one hand and a pile of papers in the other. He wasn't looking at them.

"You're home? I thought you had a meeting?" Donut asked surprised.

"It got cancelled, Franklin."

"Donut," he corrected.

"How was the game? Dexter?" he asked again.

"Grif. We lost," Grif called our casually as he went up the stairs and disappeared around the right corner.

"Uncle Rob, Grif's a jerk!" Kerry yelled after her brother. Then she went up the stairs as well.

"It was interesting," Donut quickly told him, jetting up the stairs before his father could look up and see his outfit.

At the top of the stairs, Donut took a right and ran into the middle room. He went to his closet and changed into a plain white t-shirt with blue cuffs and collar, and a pair of jeans sans flower pockets.

Donut's room could easily be mistaken for that of a stereotypical girl's. His walls were a light pink, his ceiling white. His floor was wooden, but there was a rainbow colored, flower shaped rug covering the majority of the floor boards. His bed was across from the door and was covered by dark pink sheets and two matching pillows. Propped up behind those bed pillows were three throw pillows with eradicate designs of dark reds, blues, and greens. On the left side of his door was a dresser with filled picture frames and an assortment of ceramics-everything from cats to dogs to horses to unicorns- and on the right was his vanity. In the drawer were little notes he'd kept over the years and other such things. Behind the mirror he had his favorite jewelry. On the vanity's surface itself was his brush and a picture of him and his cousins two years prior. All around his room were stuffed animals of all types, shapes, sizes, and colorings. In two places on the ceiling hung nets with even more stuffed animals in them.

Donut plopped down on his bed with a "Whoosh!" He closed his eyes and thought about his meeting with -1 (for the umpteenth time that afternoon). He was unknowingly smiling wide, his cheeks red, as he brought a hand up to where he'd been kissed.

_He kissed me! Alright, it was on the cheek, but still. He's so cute! Too bad he's a Blue, but that just makes it all the more interesting, _he thought. _Like Romeo and Juliet. I just hope we have a happier ending._

He was broken out of his thoughts by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He went over to his bag and took it out. Looking at who it was, he answered.

"Hey, Ashley," he greeted, pleasantly dazed.

"You seem too happy and spaced out. Even for you," Ashley noted in suspicion. "And when you came back after half-time, you were, like, totally giddy, but you wouldn't tell me anything. Okay, spill. What happened?"

"Heh. It's a secret, but I'll give you a hint," Donut compromised.

"Yeah?" She asked eagerly.

"It was _good_."

XXX

Simmons cracked his door open and peered out: no one there. With a small sigh of relief, he tip-toed out of his room and down the dark hallway. He stopped, noticing a light emitting from his brother's room. He cautiously turned the knob and popped his head in.

Lopez, a dark haired, brown-skinned seventeen-year-old Senior, sat at his desk with his back to the door. He was hunched over his text books, apparently studying for the upcoming semester finals (something Simmons knew he should be doing as well). Simmons cleared his throat to alert the other teen to his presence.

"What do you want?" Lopez asked without turning around.

"Where's Sarge?"

"Sótano," he replied monotone.

"Huh?"

"Basement."

Oh, right. Thanks." Simmons started to leave, closing the door behind him.

"Going to sneak out and see the orange one?" Lopez asked, seemingly uninterested.

"Er, yeah. G'night."

Simmons left Lopez alone, going back to his own room. Deciding it would be safer to climb out his window rather than risk meeting his father by using the front door, Simmons took from his closet the handmade rope ladder he'd put together in boy scouts when he was eight. He opened his window after tying one end of the ladder to his bed and threw the rest over the side, wary of how much sound he made. Then, Simmons skillfully climbed over and down in less than a minute, used to doing it.

Once his feet touched ground, Simmons was racing to the woods. It was about a seven minute trip for him, but he'd done it so many times it was no problem. As expected, when he got there Grif had not yet arrived.

Simmons sat down underneath his and Grif's tree, the only one in the middle of the clearing, and enjoyed the serenity of what could be seen of the night sky through the canopy of trees. His eyes eventually closed and he listened to the crickets' music.

Abruptly, he felt warm lips brush up against his. Simmons' eyes flew open, revealing his smirking boyfriend. He shook his head, unable but to smile back.

"You're late," he greeted.

"You're too damn early," Grif replied as he sat down next to him.

"Whatever, Dex." It was silent for a moment, both enjoying each other's company wordlessly, before Grif spoke.

"So, Sarge still not talking to you?" he asked.

"Not a word. Congratulations," he replied dryly, leaning his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"Are you blaming _me_?" Grif asked incredulously. Simmons looked pointedly at him. "Okay, yeah. I'll admit it; I fucked up. But don't act like you weren't enjoying it."

"Trust me, I won't," he replied truthfully.

"_Really_?" Grif questioned slyly.

"Up until the point where Sarge walked in," Simmons chuckled, though not out of humor.

"Well," Grif said suggestively, moving so he was straddling Simmons' waist. "Daddy's not here now."

"Sounds fun, but we both have to stu-" Before he could finish protesting, Grif's mouth was on his, sucking hard on Simmons' bottom lip. Fuck finals; studying could wait (though, Grif had in mind fucking something else).


	3. Chapter 2 Hours Don't Pass Easily

**A/N:** Almost forgot that it was Sunday, update day. Here it is, folks, the week-awaited chapter two. Now if you excuse me, I'll be working on a _new _RvB fic. This one involves magic.  
This takes place on Monday, by the way. Just incase you need a timeline in your head.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there is Grif/Simmons in abundance, one-sided Donut/Caboose and Caboose/Sheila, and Church/Tex, and hints of Kerry/Doc.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Slash, cussing, and teens having and wanting sex. And violence. Don't forget the violence. Also, possibly, Grif's worst nightmare has come to pass; and he needs a smoke, bad. Plus, disturbing school food.

Chapter 2  
Hours Don't Pass Easily  
Or  
Distress at Not-Alloweds, and Crazy Normality

"Didn't get much sleep last night?" Donut asked playfully, sitting at the desk next to his cousin. He got a groan in reply. "Your driving was worse than usual this morning," Donut continued. "And you didn't say anything when that guy came up to Kerry and they started flirting."

"What!" Grif exclaimed, head shooting up as he gave his cousin a horrified look.

"Eh, just kidding," Donut lied with a nervous chuckle.

"You sunuvabitch," he mumbled, placing his head back down on the cold desk and using his arms to cover around it as a barrier from light.

"Seriously, Grif, when'd you go to bed last night? Must have been pretty late."

"Donut, you can look at it two ways: One, I went to bed _real _late at night, or two, I went to bed _real _early in the morning."

"Or, we can look at it truthfully."

"Which is where I got an hour of sleep…at most."

"Wow. What were you guys doing? I mean, besides each other." Grif turned his head slightly so he could glare at the smaller teen.

"Simmons went home and I decided to stay out for a while. Kinda lost track of time."

"Aw, is that all? I was hoping for an interesting story," Donut pouted.

"Can I go to sleep now?"

"Sure," he replied cheerfully.

"Finally," Grif mumbled, shifting until he was as comfortable as he could be on a hard, cold, wooden desk. Suddenly, however, the final bell rang and his teacher's shrill, grating voice spoke.

"Okay, come one now. In your seats, everybody." She clapped her hands as she spoke, causing Grif's budding migraine to intensify.

The teen groaned; he couldn't even sleep and forget what had happened after having sex with Simmons, could he? Not that it mattered much, anyways; during that one hour of sleep he _did _get, he was still haunted.

_Grif pulled out of Simmons and they sat side-by-side, leaning against each other. The chilling winter wind felt refreshing against their hot bodies. Still, though, they subconsciously cuddled closer to the other._

"_Damn it, shoulda brought my cigarettes," Grif complained, unaware that his hand had snaked around Simmons' waist._

"_That's a habit you should really quit, Dex," Simmons told him._

"_Which, smoking after sex or smoking in general?"_

"_Both."_

"_Figured."_

_They lay in quiet for a few precious minutes, both with no will to get dressed, before Simmons whispered his lover's name._

"_Mm?" Grif questioned lazily, eyes half-lidded._

"_Listen, we need to tone it down," Simmons told him, voice completely serious._

"_Huh?"_

"_We need to stop meeting like this almost every night-at least for a while," he quickly added seeing Grif's horror-stricken face. "Also, no flirting at school, especially around Sarge."_

"_But it's hilarious," the taller boy whined._

"_Dex," Simmons said warningly._

"_Okay, okay. Fine, I won't flirt with you in front of your Dad," he conceded reluctantly._

"_No more groping, either. Or skipping class or lunch to go behind the bleachers-or anywhere else for that matter," he continued._

"_What! But, but…"_

"_No randomly grabbing that, either," Simmons said sternly, though he was unable to help from grinning at Dexter's distress._

"_You realize, Dick, that you've taken all the fun in a normal day away from me," Grif told him, suddenly solemn. Simmons just rolled his eyes._

"_Listen, this is only until finals are over. By then Sarge should be calmed down. Enough. Besides," he told Grif, head reclining back on his lover's chest, "You need to concentrate on your studies. You don't want to fail and get kicked off the team, do you?"_

"_I'm only on it 'cause of you," Grif retorted, chin in hand resting on his knee. He watched Simmons get dressed almost wistfully._

"_Of course," he mumbled as the taller male decided to push himself off the ground and put on his clothes as well._

"_Goodbye kiss?" Grif asked when both were fully dressed, tone pleading. (Though, what he thought was "Goodbye sex? Blow job, at least."_

""_I'm not heartless-it's in your best interest to not to say anything to that," Simmons replied, going over and placing a chaste kiss on Grif's lips before sauntering off. Grif watched, flabbergast at the whole day, as he disappeared. He leaned against their tree, desperately needing a smoke._

Grif was brought back to the present by his teacher clearing her throat right in front of his seat. _Shit_, he thought growling. He badly needed a smoke.

XXX

Leonard Church slammed his locker door shut. Everyone had been getting on his nerves as of late. More so than usual. If he had to listen to-

"Church! Tucker's bein' mean again!"

-Caboose and Tucker argue-

"Dude, stop bothering me and I won't fucking hit you!"

-for any longer he'd go insane.

"Ch-urch!"

"Church!"

"Shut the fuck up!" the teen exploded, snapping towards them. "I'm not your guys' fuckin' mother, so don't complain to me."

"You're not in a very good mood, huh?" Tucker asked mildly.

"Do you need a hug?" Caboose offered as if talking to a young, cranky child.

"Caboose, touch me and I'll kill you." The younger boy backed up slowly, hiding behind Tucker.

"Yeah, 'cause we all know I'm a fucking magical shield."

"Listen, both of you. I can't take any more of this shit. You assholes called me at two in the morning so I could settle an argument. Let me get this message out clear: I. Don't. Fucking. Care. About. Either. Of. You. Also," he added as an after thought. "I can't deal with your dumb asses when my psychotic girlfriend is-"

An ominous shadow fell over Church, stilling his tongue. He could feel the cold fire of a demon's eyes bore into the back of his skull. Goosebumps rose on his suddenly chilled skin.

"Is what, Church?" a dark, menacing voice asked, tone dripping with venom. The teen in question gulped.

"Right behind you," Tucker warned a little too late. Church ignored him.

"N-nothing, Tex…Uh, how's…it…going?" He turned around to face her. The first thing he noticed was her angry stance and fiery glare.

"Dude, be careful," Tucker whispered in advice. "Tread lightly."

"Not helping, Tucker. So, um, hi, Tex?"

"You pansy-assed son of a bitch," the girl mumbled walking past her boyfriend. Not before lovingly pushing him hard against the lockers, however.

"Goddamned PMS," Church cursed when he was sure she was out of earshot. He rubbed his shoulder.

"Dude, did you guys have another fight?" Tucker asked, staring at Tex's ass as she walked away.

"Girls are scary," Caboose commented with a shudder.

"Yeah, they are. Especially that one. And no, Tucker, we didn't have a fight…That we don't always have, I mean. Are you really surprised by now?" Church replied.

"Ya know, I probably shouldn't be."

The minute bell rang, warning students to get to class. Luckily, the three boys had lunch first thing fourth period so they wouldn't have to rush anywhere. As they made their way to the cafeteria, a short, dark haired freshman stood directly in their paths.

"The hell do you want, Andy?"

"Where's Tex? Scare her off again, lover boy?" the younger teen sneered.

"Okay, you short piece of-"

"Whoa there, Church. It's probably not the best idea to kill your on-again off-again girlfriend's cousin," Tucker advised, clutching the smaller teens shoulder.

"But Tex doesn't _like _him. No one likes him."

"Hey, fuck you, buddy. It's not like she can stand you," he retorted.

"At least I can get a girl."

"Can you? It doesn't look like it."

"Oh, you son of a _bitch_! At least I'm not a virgin."

"When was the last time you got laid?"

"Last ni-"

"With your girlfriend."

"…About six months ago. But that's not important," he quickly added in defense. Andy let out a loud snort.

"Dude, you're pathetic!" He turned around and started towards the cafeteria. Tucker and Caboose followed. Not before the latter offered another hug to Church, of course.

"…I'm going to kill you all."

After getting what passed for lunch, the four teens sat down at their regular lunch table (the one blocked from security's view by the pillar). Caboose eagerly shook his-hopefully unexpired-chocolate milk before opening the carton. He started to chug it down as Sheila Cannon came down and sat between him and Andy.

"Hi, Sheila!" he gargled, milk spilling down his chin. It came out sounding more like, "Wu-I Sweea!"

"Hello, Caboose," she replied pleasantly.

"Yo, Sheila."

"Hey."

"How's it-" Church began before being interrupted.

"Hello, Tucker, Andy," she greeted in return. She coldly ignored Church.

"Okay, seriously; is every girl around here pissed at me?"

"Probably," Tucker replied, shoving a cold, half-cooked fry into his mouth. Andy exploded into Homeric laughter.

"God-fuckin'-damn it," he mumbled to himself. To Sheila he said, "I'm really, _really _sorry for whatever I did." Sheila shot him a nasty glare.

"Aw, you two, should get along," Caboose told them. "Families shouldn't fight."

"Who the hell said any of us are family?"

"Caboose, what the hell goes on in your mind?" Tucker asked.

"You're right, Caboose. Church," Sheila said, her dark eyes softening up. "I forgive you."

"Gee, thanks." He didn't sound overly excited.

"So, if we're a family, who the hell is what?" Andy questioned, poking his supposed chicken sandwich with a spork.

"Church is the loving big brother who protects us all-"

"What?"

"Tucker is the second born, who's not loved and always ignored-"

"Hey!"

"Then I'm the, intelligent, and handsome, third child. Andy, you're the youngest, lovable and cute brother."

"Ya frickin' moron."

"Sheila is the talented, and beautiful, sister. Who's wonderful and nice. And likes me more than Tucker."

"Aw, thank you, Caboose."

"And Tex is the big, scary sister," Caboose finished explaining.

"Tex was the only one he got right," Tucker commented. "Well, Sheila, too, I guess."

"Yeah, and speaking of Tex, ain't she coming to lunch?" Andy asked. "How badly did ya piss her off, Church?"

"A lot," Tucker answered for him. Church glared at the slightly taller teen.

"Yeah, thanks for that, Tucker."

"No problem, man. It's what friends do." He took a huge bite out of his sandwich. Church turned to Andy.

"She's just been, even more, easily set off lately because of that ghost that's haunting her."

"Yeah, it has nothing to do with you," And said with a derisive roll of his eyes.

"Oh, up yours!" Church exclaimed.

"You'd probably like that," he smirked in reply.

As the two threw insults back and forth at each other, Tucker kept on shoving food (a term used loosely) the he could barely stand into his mouth, and Caboose kept trying (and failing) to flirt-in his own innocent way-with Sheila. She just nibbled at her salad, humming to herself and nodding vaguely at whatever Caboose was saying to her. Tex eventually joined them-she was in a foul mood and constantly muttering under her breath. Also, insulting and threatening Church.

All-in-all, it was just a normal day for the motley group of friends.

XXX

Instead of concentrating on his teacher, Grif was-unsurprisingly-more intent at staring at Simmons. Said teen was sitting one seat across from him, paying apt attention to their teacher.

His eyes trailed up and down Simmons' body, admiring his athletic yet not overly muscular figure. Grif fount it fascination how Simmons would come in close to his paper as he wrote-rapid yet neat. He loved how Simmons, when he wasn't writing, would have the eraser end of the pencil brushing up lightly against his bottom lip. For some inexplicable reason, Grif found it absolutely adorable (though he'd never admit it to anyone).

In his head, Grif made a list of everything he knew-things that wouldn't change any time soon:

He had a great boyfriend

His boyfriend was intelligent-and the only motivation he had to do schoolwork.

Said boyfriend's father hated him. A lot.

Pretty sure Sarge wanted him dead.

Finals were coming up and he could most-likely only pass because of Simmons.

He wasn't allowed sex until after finals.

He was horny as hell.

Dick was looking very tasty…

Whatever Powers that Be existed really had a sick sense of humor-especially when it concerned him.

Grif heaved a sight, his eyes never leaving Simmons. Then his stomach growled.

He was hungry, hated C Lunch, and wanted to skip straight to dessert. A dessert he wouldn't get to taste for a while.

Everyone started to gather up their things and leave the room. Simmons, smirking, went over to Grif and hit him upside the head. The teen recoiled and blinked.

"Wha'?" he asked stupidly.

"You were staring at me and the bell rung, dumbass," Simmons told him.

"Oh. Hey, it's not like staring isn't allowed, right?"

"I could practically feel you penetrate me with your eyes, Grif."

"…Well…I didn't _actually, _so I didn't violate any rule," he defended. Simmons rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, cockbite. Let's just go to lunch."

"Yeah, sounds good to me."

Grif put his notebook and pencil into his book bag before shouldering it and following his lover out the door. They walked close together, a compatible silence between them, to the lunchroom. They went to their table to lay their stuff down before going to get lunch, and then went back to their table. Soon, Donut, Lopez, and Kerry joined them.

Their table lay in the security cameras' blind spot, and the security guards rarely looked there. Lopez and Simmons, after hacking into the school system and doing amazing and complicated equations that made everyone else's heads spin, found the table in the perfect place Simmons' freshman year.

"Hey, guys," Donut said. Everyone besides Grif-who was too busy staring at Simmons- replied with their own personal greetings.

Donut sat between Grif and Kerry. Lopez was on the other side of Simmons and next to Kerry. As the cheerleader sat down, he took a small paper plate with a dry sponge-like square cake from his tray and laid it on the table.

Kerry gave him a secret smirk, then talked as if she'd carefully constructed her words.

"So, Donut, what do you think my chances are with Doc? He's pretty hot."

"Yeah," he replied in the same tone as his cousin, looking at Grif from the corner of his eye. "He really is. I'm totally sure he'd go out with you."

Grif looked mortified, stricken by his cousin and sister's words. He carefully picked up his carton of milk-despite the fact he hated the drink- and attempted to open it. The object was proving quite difficult, however, as he struggled with it.

"How long do I have to wait before getting him in the sack so I don't look like a whore?" Kerry asked.

Donut had no chance to answer before Grif ripped open his carton, spraying milk all over himself, his tray, and even on his book bag. The table was silent as he gritted his teeth, eyes closed.

A minute passed before Simmons asked, "Uh, are you okay, Grif?" He got a growl in return.

Grif dropped his ruined milk carton on his tray, closing his brown eyes. With a groan, he hit his head down on the table. There was more silence for a minute, this time broken by Donut.

"Uh, hey, Grif? Did you know you laid your head down on my cake?"

"…Yeah, I felt that," he replied simply. The table burst into laughter and Grif tightened his jaw.

He needed sex, alcohol, and cigarettes.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks until finals were over.


	4. Chapter 3 Defeating the Purpose

**A/N:** It's Sunday, I'm about to collapse, and I hate children (I volunteered for this Play-In-a-Day thing for kids yesterday). Updating this does make me happier, though.  
On a completely unrelated side-note, I was told to eat a donut and I burst into laughter. I'm sure it's happened to all RvB watchers…Right?  
And the store Cool Sun is copyrighted to me.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there is Grif/Simmons in abundance, one-sided Donut/Caboose and Caboose/Sheila, and Church/Tex, and hints of Kerry/Doc. Oh, and Tucker and Kerry flirting.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Slash, het, crude humor, high school blues, heartache, love, hate, relationships, overprotective big brother Grif, mentions of doing naughty things in public places, flirtatious teenagers, malls, shopping, prep stores, whining, complaining, and cursing. Not necessarily in that order, of course.

Chapter 3  
Defeating the Purpose  
Or  
Chance Meetings Seem to Happen a Lot

"Hey, yeah, this makes perfect sense. We're not having sex so I can study, but we can shop for three fucking hours!" Grif snarked. He was just ignored. Again.

"This would look great on you, Kerry! Doc'll love it," Donut told his cousin, holding out a yellow V-neck blouse.

"You think so?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, totally," he assured.

"Okay, I like blue anyway. Thanks, Donut. I'm going to go try it on." She took the shirt and bounced away to the dressing room as Donut went back to looking through the racks.

"Simmons, why the fuck are we here and will you please kill me?" Grif begged his boyfriend.

"Because," Simmons replied through clenched jaw, tone as though he had explained several dozen times. "Sarge is taking me with him to a big conference thing tomorrow and I want to look nice. And no, I won't kill you. Though, don't tempt me."

"And why do _they-"_Grif motioned towards Donut and Kerry-who had come out and was currently modeling the blouse, "-need to stay with us? Can't we split up? Fuck, I hate the mall," he griped.

"Kerry wants our opinions for her study date with Doc."

"I know what really happens at study dates," Grif growled.

"That's only when you're horny and we can get away with it," Simmons told him.

"That's _always_."

"Whatever."

Simmons thought for a minute before asking, "Hey, Dex? What color do I look best in?" Grif eyed him up and down.

"I prefer you naked."

"Goddamn cockbite," he said, hitting Grif upside the head. "Answer seriously."

"Ow! Fine…violent bastard…Maroon."

"Maroon?"

"Maroon." Under his breath he added, "Your favorite color."

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" he exclaimed too quickly, giving a nervous chuckle. Simmons said nothing, only narrowed his eyes before shrugging.

"It's my favorite color."

"Hey, Simmons," Kerry said, coming over to the pair. "Do you think I should get a blue thong, or a light blue thong?" she asked holding up said thongs, one red while the other was yellow.

"Uh, yeah, I'm going now. We'll meet up with you guys in an hour. Come on, Grif," Simmons said, dragging the bored and whining teen away with him. Kerry turned, grinning, to Donut.

"You were right, that did get rid of them."

"Told ya."

Grif and Simmons, meanwhile, walked away from the other pair.

"I'll kill Doc if he touches her," he told Simmons with a growl.

"And if she touches him?" he challenged, smirking.

"I'll kill him."

"I'm sure that overprotective logic works for you."

"Hey, don't tell me if we switched places that you wouldn't do the same."

"Actually, I just try not to think about other people's sex lives-especially Donut's or Kerry's. Not that they have a sex life, thanks to you, but still."

They walked out of the store and into the main part of the mall. Neither spoke until after going up the escalator, walking to the other side of the building, and entering another store: Cool Sun.

"You know, I never go into a prep store unless you force me to," Grif told his boyfriend as Simmons looked at dress pants.

"That's nice, Grif. Really relevant to anything I need help with," he replied peeved, picking up a pair of pants his size. Grif, devious grin spread across his face, came up behind Simmons and leaned close into his ear.

"You could make it up to me," he whispered. Simmons skillfully suppressed a shudder.

"And how's that?" he asked feigning disinterest.

"Blowjob in the bathroom," the taller one replied simply, causing Simmons to drop the pants.

"What the fuck, Grif?" he hissed. "In a public place?"

"Yeah, it'd be fun," he said backing up. Simmons turned to face him.

"The hell is wrong with you? One, not in a public restroom. Ever. Two, didn't I say no sex?"

"Sex and blowjobs are two entirely different things. And come on, I _need _it," he whined.

"It's been two days."

"Point? Besides, Sarge isn't here. And remember, I could be home studying instead of watching you shop." Simmons gave an irritated sigh at Grif's pleading eyes.

"I'm not even going to argue with you right know, Dex. I just want to get clothes, wait an hour for Donut and Kerry to finish shopping, and go home."

"There's a whole hour in all that where you do nothing. Now, you could do something useful. With me," he added suggestively.

"I'll tutor you," he replied.

"I was thinking something involving our lower parts."

"Goddamn it, Grif. Just shut the hell up, you cockbite."

"Fine," he conceded. Grif pouted until Simmons turned back around; then the grin reappeared.

Making sure Simmons wasn't paying him any attention, Grif looked around for the nearest restroom. Finding one not too far off, he quickly grabbed his boyfriend's arm and dragged him into it. Luckily, it was empty and Grif pushed Simmons into the nearest stall.

"Goddamn it, Grif. Didn't I say no?" Simmons growled, straddling the toilet.

"Yeah, but when do I really listen?" he replied, kissing Simmons' chest.

"Grif, this is making me the complete opposite of turned-on." He hoped his beginning erection wasn't noticeable.

"Then we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?"

_Fucking cockbite, _Simmons thought as Grif trailed downwards, hands on his zipper-which he readily unzipped.

"Grif, I swear if you touch me any more in this place, I won't give you sex again. Ever," Simmons threatened. Grif immediately stopped.

Sometimes…most of the time…always he wished Simmons had as much of a want of sex as he did. (Not that Simmons _wasn't _a sex-crazed, hormone-induced teenager with a willing boyfriend. Just not so much as Grif; he actually had restraint where the taller boy didn't.)

"Fine." He gave a little defeated sigh.

Simmons' brain screamed "Victory!" while his penis screamed "No! Don't stop, damn you!" –and his heart, of course, whispered "I wonder what it'd feel like to give Dex a blowjob in a public restroom?" Simmons really, _really _had a traitorous body.

XXX

"Hey, Kerry?" Donut asked.

"Yeah, Donut?" Kerry replied.

"Since Grif and Simmons are probably off having sex somewhere, you want to go get something to eat real quick?"

"Sure, I'm starving. Let me just buy thee shoes. They match my tank top, right?" she asked.

"Totally!" he assured.

After making her purchase, the cousins went up the escalator to the second floor and walked to the other end of the mall where the food court was. It was packed, the cold weather less of a threat than loved ones who didn't get exactly what they wanted for the upcoming holidays. The two couldn't find a place to sit.

"Aw, man," Kerry moaned. "I really wanted a salad and pizza, too."

"Yeah," Donut agreed. "Man, I wish Christmas wasn't so close." He gasped suddenly. "Did I just say such blasphemy? Christmas is the best time of the year!"

"Grif better get me a good present this year."

"I hope he got that list I pushed under his door last month."

As the two were talking, a light-brown haired teen around their age came running up to them. He threw his arms around Donut in a giant bear hug, knocking the wind out of the smaller boy. As the exclamation, "Admiral Muffins!" reached his ears, realization of who it was donned on Donut.

"Caboose!" he greeted, happy to see the quarterback again.

While Caboose let go of the blonde, two other teenaged boys came up behind him. One had dark, tousled hair and looked vaguely familiar whereas the taller boy was dark skinned with matching hair and eyes.

"Oh, hey. You're that one guy. Church, right?"

"Yeah," the shorter one replied with a slight wave.

"And this is Tucker," Caboose introduced.

"Yo."

"He's mean."

"Hey, I am not!"

As Caboose and Tucker went back and forth like that, with Church shaking his head exasperatedly, Donut and Kerry watched, giggling. Then, Donut realized he hadn't yet introduced her.

"This is my cousin Kerry," he said. The two stopped fighting long enough to greet her.

"Hi."

"'Sup?"

Then they were back to arguing. Church just sighed and gave a half-wave to the girl. Kerry winked at him saying, "Hey, cutie." The boy tried to hide a grin.

"I'm guessing you forgot all about Doc, huh?" Donut asked her with amusement.

"Yup."

The two teens stopped fighting again when Caboose suddenly said, "We should all get lunch together!"

"Awesome!" Donut replied overeagerly.

The group, after buying their desired lunches, sat down at the only free table they could find. Donut was between Caboose and Church who was across from Kerry, who sat next-and very close-to Tucker. As she and Tucker shamelessly flirted, Donut, Caboose, and Church just talked (and ate).

"Is it fun being a cheerleader, Captain Muffin?" Caboose asked the smaller teen.

"Loads. It's really great since I'm _extremely_ flexible," he hinted. "How about being a football player?"

"It's fun!" he enthusiastically replied. Church groaned.

"It's almost as bad as my girlfriend," he told them.

"Tex, is mean."

"Evil."

"A bully."

"A conniving bitch."

"Half-shark," Tucker jumped in.

"Ooh! What do you want for Christmas, Muffins?" Caboose suddenly asked, changing the subject before Church could make a retort.

"Aw, you don't have to get me anything, Caboose," Donut said. _You could take my virginity, though._

"Do you like bunnies?"

"I love them!" he replied.

"Then I will get you a bunny," Caboose said happily. Donut beamed and asked him the same thing.

"What do _you _want for Christmas, Caboose?" _I could dress up as Mrs. Clause and-_

"A stuffed animal."

"Okay!"

_Damn, _Church thought, _he moves fast. I guess to get a good relationship you have to be as dumb as an ox. And as strong as one, too._

XXX

"Come on, Dick. You know you wanna," Grif tried to cajole.

"How many times do I have to say-?"

"A lot." Simmons sighed.

"Look, Grif, I haven't even bought what I need to and already we-_you_'ve wasted all but ten minutes. And I'm amazed no one has come in here yet."

"I'm not. And do you really think those two'll be on time?" Grif asked.

"Goddamn it, cockbite. When finals are over, then we can goof off all winter break. Until then-"

Grif wasn't…No, he couldn't be…Yes, Grif was giving Simmons the dreaded _Puppy Eyes. _Oh, curse Donut for teaching him that technique.

"G-Grif. I'm not… I'm not…" His bulge was becoming even more noticeable as his resolve was weakening. "Ah, fuck it," he said, pushing a startled-but very happy Grif up against the stall door.

Simmons unzipped the taller boy's pants, revealing that he wore no underwear. Before shoving his boyfriend's erection into his mouth he uttered, "And no more until after finals." At that point, Grif really was too far gone to care. He _always _won one way or another.

XXX

The five teenagers walked out of the food court in good spirits. Church, Caboose, and Donut were laughing together while Kerry and Tucker were still flirting. They stopped in front of the fountain.

"You guys should come to our party Saturday," Church invited.

"Ooh, can they, Church? That'd be great! Then we could have a sleepover!" Caboose beamed, speaking rapidly.

"That'd rock! I'll so be there," Donut replied. _Please let there be no_ sleeping _between us_, he pleaded in thought.

"How 'bout you, Kerry?" Tucker asked.

"Oh, I'll be there if you are," she promised, running a finger down his chest. He gulped, grinning widely.

"That's great. See you there, then, baby."

"What did you just call my sister?" an angry voice behind him demanded. Tucker winced, cursing internally.

"Let me guess, older brother," he stated rather than asked.

"Yup. Hi, Grif," Kerry said, looking past the dark teen and waving at her brother.

He was red in the face and did not look pleased at all. Donut suspected that anger wasn't the only reason he was flushed, however, when he looked at Simmons; his hair was ruffled a bit and he, too, seemed out of breath and red faced.

"Hey, guys. How's it going?" Donut greeted cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Everyone, this is my other cousin, Grif, and his boyfriend Simmons." The former was still glaring at the back of Tucker's head.

"They should come, too," Caboose decided, oblivious to the tension.

_But that'll lessen my chances of getting laid! _Donut cried in his mind, though the smile never left his features.

"Come to what?" Simmons asked. "Oh, let Sister do what she wants, Grif."

"No," was the simple and stubborn reply.

"To Church's party this Saturday," Donut explained. _You can keep Grif distracted with beer and sex._

"Right. Who the hell is Church?"

"That would be me," the teen answered, raising his hand an inch in greeting. "Hey."

"Sure we'll go," Grif answered for them, quickly changing tune.

"Great." Church looked at his watch. "Shit. We've got to go. I'll give you the directions quick."

After pulling out a pen, Church did just that. Though, the directions were hastily written on Donut's arm. Then he, Caboose, and Tucker left-not without the latter whispering suggestively into Kerry's ear and winking at her, of course.

"I'll kill him," Grif growled after they had gone.

"Stop trying to do me favors, bitch," Kerry told her brother.

"Hey, guys?" Donut asked.

"Yeah?"

"Where are your bags? Didn't you need to buy somethin', Simmons?"

The raven haired teen blinked before looking at his empty hands. He gritted his teeth and snarled, "Grif."

"Well, you're the one who forgot…to…buy…Uh, Simmons? Cold you stop glaring at me?" Grif said, stumbling in his words.

"You cockbite."

"Hey, how about you go get that maroon shirt or whatever and we'll meet you in the car," Grif suggested as he backed up slowly. Simmons eyes pierced him like Medusa's.

"Grif, I have to be him in-" he checked his watch, "fifteen minutes ago. Great, I'm already late. I'm going to fucking kill you." His words fell on deaf ears, however, as Grif had already slunk off to the parking lot.

Sex in a public place _and _he was late. Oh, Grif was going to pay.


	5. Chapter 4 It’s All Perspective and Wordi

**A/N:** Sorry this is late, guys. Fanfiction isn't working for me right now. It's all wonky. I'll have this up two days late, then. Sorry, again. Just for this, I'll have the next chapter early, maybe Saturday or Friday.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there is Grif/Simmons in abundance, one-sided Donut/Caboose and Caboose/Sheila, and Church/Tex, and hints of Kerry/Doc.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Incest jokes, smoking, slash, cursing, twisting words around, testicles and tentacles, talk about sex, blasphemy, the cold, studying, naughty thoughts about a best friend, Spanglish, and mentions of violence and threats.

Chapter 4  
It's All Perspective and Wording  
Or  
Say One Thing, Think it's Traditional Meaning

Grif groaned, banging his head against the wall. His book bag started to slide down his shoulder so he just let it fall. His uncle had left for work an hour ago, school started in fifteen minutes, his car was heaving slight problems, and Donut and Kerry were still getting ready.

"What the fuck are you two doing?" he yelled in aggravation. Donut popped his head out of the bathroom.

"Grif, can't you be quiet for a minute? I'm trying to concentrate." Before Grif could give a retort, the smaller boy had already closed the door.

"But we…I….Goddamn it…Ahggg!" he stuttered, his head banging against the wall again, hard. This time, Kerry-with only a bra and pants on-came halfway out of her room.

"Grif," she whined. "I can't choose what to wear with all that noise." She was back in her room with the end of her sentence. Yet again the seventeen-year-old banged his head against the _extremely _solid wall, resulting in a very loud thud and a headache forming quickly.

He shouldn't have gotten up yet. Why didn't he stay in bed? ...Oh, right: Kerry had a date-_study date _(it may sound innocent, but Grif was experienced; he knew what _study dates_ led to, usually)-and he hadn't been able to sleep peacefully. Grif had tossed and turned all night, plotting to make Doc have a convenient accident if need be.

Also, Simmons was at the meeting conference thing with Sarge so he wouldn't be in school, meaning Grif couldn't stare at what was currently fruit to him and fantasize…

Well, he could still fantasize, but it was kind of pointless if Simmons (that delicious eye candy) wasn't there.

Grif was broken out of his reverie by Donut exiting the bathroom. He sighed, relieved; that meant soon Kerry would be out and they could go. (He didn't particularly _want _to be at school, but it was better than just standing in the hallway thinking about what he couldn't have for days yet.) Unfortunately, the dirty blonde went straight to his room, shutting the door behind him. Not before, politely, saying he'd be out in a minute, though.

Grif groaned. Grif banged his head-_hard- _against the wall. Grif's ears rang with the thud. Grif contemplated sticking a needle into his arm and injecting elephant tranquilizers straight into his bloodstream.

Calling out to the two, he started to descend the stairs. "I'll be waiting out in the car!" He didn't pay attention to the muffled replies he received as he opened the front door and stepped outside.

Grif took a deep breath of the nearly fresh air. The sky was cloudy, out in the distance crows were cawing, he could clearly see his breath with every tiny exhale, and it was fucking _cold._

Hell was cold, alert the media.

Or at least the churches.

Grif went over to his car, keys in hand, and unlocked the door. He lifted the handle and tried to open it, to no avail. The door was stuck. Frozen shut.

It really wasn't his morning. Then again, it was never his morning; Grif simply wasn't a morning person. Mornings hated him. Mornings…

_Stop saying morning_, he silently berated himself, tugging harder at the door. It finally swung open, sending him stumbling back into the snow.

"…I…will fuckin'…_kill_ you," Grif hissed at the sky. He couldn't tell who he was talking to, not that the teen freezing teen really cared.

His eyes clenched shut. Soon, as he was in the middle of suffocating his pounding headache, the sound of the front door opening and closing could be heard. A shadow fell over him and Grif opened his eyes a crack.

"Whatcha' doin'?" Donut questioned, pleasantly curious. Grif murmured something too low for the other teen to hear. "What was that?"

"I said that I was just lounging with a fucking martini. Now get in the goddamn car. We're re already fuckin' late."

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Kerry commented.

"Go," her brother growled.

"Fine. Sheesh," she grumbled defensively, getting into the passenger seat while Donut crawled into the back. Grif noticed, peeved, that they got their doors open with little difficulty.

Grif managed to stand up, shivering from the wet coldness seeping through his jacket. Shaking the loose snow off him, he got behind the wheel; he slammed the door shut after him. Then it occurred to him that his keys were still in the lock. Grumbling, he opened the door, took out the keys, and slammed the door shut again, this time harder.

During the drive to school-where they sped so as to not be too late-Grif was uncharacteristically quiet. He simply listened, and clutched the wheel tightly, to Kerry talking about her upcoming _study_ date with Doc.

When they arrived to school, and Grif finally found a parking space, they had a minute to get to class.

"See ya, Kerry!" Donut waved to the girl as she ran off. Turning to his male cousin he said, "Come on, Grif, let's go."

"Yeah, no. I'm skipping first hour," he explained.

"Why?" Grif shrugged.

"Basically? 'Cause I want to." He turned and started walking off towards the back of the school. Donut followed.

"Well, then I'll come with you," he decided without invitation.

"Donut, I don't want you to come with me. Besides," he added, "I'm gonna smoke." The cheerleader wrinkled his nose at this.

"Ew. That's a really bad habit," he informed.

"I get that a lot."

"Still, though, I want to come with you." Grif narrowed his eyes; Donut, luckily or unfortunately, couldn't see the action for he was a step behind the taller teen.

"Donut, I could easily kill you and no one would have to know. There wouldn't be any witnesses," Grif told him hinting.

"You're really funny, Grif," Donut laughed, causing his cousin to twitch. "Anyways, it's a little late now to go to class."

"Whatever," Grif mumbled, making his way to the field and bleachers.

Grif, upon reaching the bleachers, sat cross-legged underneath them. He took out his half-empty pack of cigarettes as Donut crouched down next to him, scowling at the dirt and snow covered ground.

"Give me your coat," he demanded.

"What? No. Why?"

"'Cause I don't want to get dirty. I love these pants," he explained.

"Then use your own coat. It's too damn cold," Grif replied, putting a cigarette into his mouth.

"That's exactly why I can't use my own coat. I don't wanna freeze to death," Donut told him as the elder of the two put away his cigarette pack in exchange for a maroon lighter with an orange puma on it.

"Sucks for you then," Grif said dryly, lighting his cigarette and stretching his legs out in front of him.

Donut pouted for a minute, watching his cousin's actions with disgust, before brightening up. With a smile he said, "If you don't give me your coat, then I'm going to sit on your legs."

"Try and I'll seriously kill you. Even if it means Kerry and Sarge bitching at me," Grif threatened, thinking Donut wouldn't do it. After sixteen, almost seventeen years, he should have known better.

The younger boy moved and sat down on his cousin's lap, much to Grif's chagrin. He smiled wide and triumphant to the other, horror-stricken teen. He settled, making himself comfortable on Grif's lap, as the football player composed himself. He shook his head mumbling, "Whatever."

"So, Simmons and you aren't making love until after finals?" Donut asked lightly, curious to see if they'd broken yet (not that they'd tell him even if they did).

"Donut!" Grif exclaimed, taken aback. "We have never '_made love_'-" Donut rolled his eyes.

"Don't try to pretend you guys are still virgins."

"We've only fucked."

"…That…that's the saddest thing I've ever heard." It was Grif's turn to roll his eyes.

Trying to get more comfortable, Donut turned and laid against Grif's surprisingly muscled chest. Grif let out a derisive snort.

"Yeah, this doesn't look incestual at all," he commented, exhaling smoke right over the blonde's head. He wrinkled his nose form the pungent smell.

"Don't blow that stuff near me; I don't want to die from second hand smoke," he said. "And it's not like we're making out or anything." He closed his eyes and snuggled closer to his cousin's warmth. He loved the snow, but hated the cold.

"I'll blows wherever I want. It's your own fault for sitting there." Just to prove his point, Grif exhaled more smoke, this time straight in Donut's face.

"You better be at my funeral."

"I'll tap dance on your grave," he promised.

"You jerk. Careful, I know where your balls are," he said in threat. His cousin only laughed, closing his own eyes sleepily.

"I have detachable testicles," he muttered, smiling through a stifled yawn.

"Doesn't that ever hurt?" Donut asked, matching his smile.

"Only when I want it to," Grif replied. Donut let out a small giggle. There was a moment of silence between the two before the smaller teenager broke it.

"Tentacle sex."

"Wha'?" Grif asked, perplexed by the two words. He raised an eyebrow without opening his eyes.

"I just thought about tentacle sex because, you know, the two words are similar: testicle, tentacle, testicle, tentacle," he explained.

"O-kay…"

"So anyways, back to you and Simmons," Donut said, eager for a topic change. He felt Grif's chest rise and fall with a sigh, causing him to blow out more smoke.

"Donut, I don't really want to talk about it."

"But, he said no sex, then you guys did it in a _public restroom_. How'd you get him to do that?" he asked, sincerely wanting to know.

"Eh, I just cajoled him. Simmons can't resist me," Grif said, egotheism dripping off every word.

"No, really." Grif scowled.

"Remember whose lap you're in," he growled.

"Okay, okay. Sheesh. Testy," Donut mumbled.

There was another moment of silence. It was again broken by the small blonde.

"What's it like?" he asked quietly.

"Which, the sex in the restroom or sex in general?"

"Both," eh specified after a beat. There was another round of silence as Grif contemplated his answer.

"Good," he finally told Donut, taking a long drag of his beloved cancer stick.

"Aw, come on. Give me more than that," he pleaded, opening his eyes and looking at his cousin. Grif opened his eyes a crack as well, sensing Donut's gaze. He sighed.

"It's not that easy to explain. You have to _feel _it, experience it," Grif told him. Donut put his head back in its original position, yet he didn't recluse his eyes. After a while he asked another question.

"If I find the right person…"

"It'll feel amazing, trust me," Grif assured quickly and honestly.

"Will you let me loose my virginity? I mean, soon. Before I die?" he almost begged, barely above a whisper. Grif had to strain to hear him.

After about a minute of utter silence he replied, "Donut, do whatever the hell you want. As long as you think it's right and you're comfortable with it." His voice was low, almost emotionless. The blonde knew, however, how hard it was for Grif to say that.

"Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Donut cried in one delighted, rapid breath, turning and throwing his arms around his older cousin.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, just get offa me," he mumbled with hints of a blush on his face.

The cheerleader smiled at the other teen's obvious embarrassment. He obeyed, for once, getting up from Grif's lap and dusting himself off. After the older boy put out the remains of his cigarette, he got up as well.

"It's almost time for first block to end," Grif told him, looking at the watch Simmons had given him for his fifteenth birthday.

"Let's go, then. And thanks again."

"Whatever. Just don't mention to anyone that we were basically cuddling," he mumbled, walking faster. Donut just grinned giddily at his back.

XXX

"Please don't kill me," Tucker whimpered. Tex just shook her head at the black teen before turning and walking off.

"Bitch," he mumbled when he was sure she couldn't hear him.

Tucker went down the stairs and to his locker: 1212. He dialed his combination and opened the door. After putting his math book into his locker he closed the door, revealing a pissed-and sporting a fresh black eye-Church.

"Whoa. What happened to you?" he asked.

"What the hell did you say to Tex?" Church demanded, backing the taller boy against his locker.

"I just said she seemed extra sharkish today," he explained quickly in defense. Church opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. He shook his head instead.

Tucker, knowing he should fear for his life from his moody and violent friend, couldn't help but stare in awe at Church's black eye; it looked really, really, really, _really_…sexy. Especially on Church.

Tucker was suddenly very aware of the other teen's close proximity. He noticed how he was backed up against the lockers, his only escape blocked by Church. Apparently, the bell must have wrung because the hall was suddenly empty save for them.

The shorter teen seemed bigger t the moment. Dangerously bigger. Church's lips were extremely close to Tucker's; he could feel Church's breath tickle him. At some point, Church had put a white hand on the dirty-blue lockers, right next to Tucker's head.

"Are you listening?" Church demanded. The black teen blinked, broken out of his reverie.

"Wha'?" Church gritted his teeth, glare boring into Tucker's head.

"I said, don't piss off Tex because she fuckin' takes it out on me," he repeated.

"Dude, you need to lighten up." Ooh, that was the wrong thing to say. Unfortunately, it was the only thing he could manage besides "I seriously want to fuck you," and that wouldn't bode over well with Church at all.

Church stabbed him once more with a piercing glare before stomping off. Tucker couldn't help but admire his ass. He was fucking _hot as hell _when angry.

Damn, he really needed to get laid.

XXX

Grif gathered his things and left the classroom. He walked to the cafeteria, bored. On his way, he was stopped by his sister.

"Hey, Grif!" she called out, rushing to him.

"Mm," he mumbled to show he'd heard. He stopped walking courteously and waited for her.

"I'm not gonna be at lunch today," Kerry began when she was near.

"Why?" Grif raised an eyebrow, wary of what the reason could be.

"Because Doc's gonna pick me up and take me somewhere. Well, see ya, bye!" she rushed, leaving her brother standing there wordless. He blinked several times.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill them both."

Grif, grinding his teeth, started walking again, this time with a forceful stride. He threw his bag down on the floor and plopped down in one of the uncomfortable black chairs. His actions startled Donut who was staring out the window daydreaming.

"You're not happy," the cheerleader noticed.

"Thanks for the update, Miss Obvious," he retorted dryly. Donut pouted and stuck out his tongue childishly.

"You should really look into getting that stick out of your ass," Donut suggested. Grif turned to his cousin, suddenly smirking ruefully.

"Hey, Donut, is that a spider?"

"What!" Where?" Donut exclaimed terrified. "Keep it away from me!" He scooted back in his chair, frantically looking around for any signs of the dreaded eight-legged creature.

"It's, it's on your head," Grif told him, feigning fright.

Donut let out a high-pitched shriek, causing everyone in the cafeteria to look at him. He started shaking his head rapidly and hitting at the air above him, even swatting at his own head madly. Grif just leaned back in his seat and laughed. After a minute, Donut realized that Grif had tricked him.

"Oh, you bastard. And I had my hair _perfect," _he whined, getting up and leaving.

Grif tipped his chair back and put his hands behind his head_. No Lopez, no Kerry, no Donut, and no Dick,_ he thought morosely as he looked over the almost empty table. Then, a hand collided with the back of his head, causing him to suddenly and violently jerk forward.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed, turning to see who the dead man was.

"Hey," Simmons greeted, grinning.

"I thought you and Lopez went with Sarge?" Grif said, questioning his eyes.

"Sarge, half-way through the meeting, got an important call from his brother. Something happened to his wife; fell, I think," he explained, grabbing a chair and sitting next to the taller boy.

"Don't they, you know, hate each other?" Grif asked. "Wha's-her-name and Sarge, I mean?" Simmons shrugged.

"I don't know. It's probably nothing, Stacy's fall," Simmons said, words a fast ramble. It was obvious he was nervous, though not about the woman's fall.

"Probably," Grif agreed, careful with his words. "So you came to school? I would've skipped."

"That's because you're a slacker," Simmons replied, mood lightening.

"Maybe I just need the right _motivation," _Grif suggested. The innuendo was not over the smaller teen's head.

"Maybe since Sarge is so far away I can give you some _private tutoring," _Simmons replied.

Without a word, Grif stood up, slung his book bag over his shoulder, and pulled Simmons along. They started to make their way outside, to the field, only pausing long enough to talk to Lopez who had just come out of the lunch line.

"Where are you two imbéciles going?" he asked, not really caring.

"Nowhere. Just to study," Simmons quickly replied. He kept on walking.

"I," Grif said, triumphant and giddy smirk donning his features, "am going to do things to your brother that can only be fully explained by demonstration."

"Why did you tell me that? I think I'm going to be enfermo," Lopez said as Grif followed after Simmons. His hand that held the lunch tray extended to the side and he dumped the contents of his lunch in the trashcan.

Reaching the bleachers behind the school, Grif started to remove his shirt (foreplay could wait). Simmons, on the other hand, sat down and promptly pulled a text book out of his bag. Grif, erection beginning to bulge at the explicit thoughts he was having, looked expectedly at Simmons. Who was reading the text book. Innocently, as if really studying.

"What the hell are you doing, Simmons?"

"I said we were going to study. Come over here; I'm going to _try _and explain the English assignment to you," the Dutch-Irish boy told him.

"…Goddamn it," Grif mumbled.

"Just put your shirt back on. Or give it to me, I'm cold."

"Whatever," the brunet replied, throwing his shirt at Simmons. He watched, pouting, as the smaller teen took off his jacket and put the shirt over his own. Then he put the jacket back on.

"…Now I'm cold," he mumbled pitifully. Simmons just smirked.

"You shouldn't have taken your shirt off, then."

"Son of a bitch." He rubbed his arms for warmth as the other teen went back to reading the book.

A moment passed like that, with Grif watching his boyfriend read. Then he spoke again, seeing as he wasn't going to do anything sexual (and studying was definitely out of the question).

"You know, I've got no idea if this is God's revenge for fucking you, or if Satan's just getting bored." Simmons looked up from his book, eyebrow raised.

"This coming form an atheist. I thought you didn't believe in either Satan or God," he questioned.

"Yeah, I don't. It just helps to have someone to blame," Grif explained with a careless shrug.

"I'm not exactly sure it works that way, Dex."

"Meh. Fuck the system." Simmons let out a snort as Grif came over and sat down next to him.

"Cold," he said, more a statement than a question. Grif's only reply was to cuddle into the shorter teen's warmth. He glared at Simmons' smirk; it was almost too big for his face.


	6. Chapter 5 Whispers in the Mind

**A/N: **Here's chapter five. Two days early. Happiness! Rejoice! Okay, now I've got to post this up then get to work on my Forensics tournament tomorrow. –Sigh-I have to get up before six on a Saturday…-Cries-  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there is Grif/Simmons in abundance, one-sided Donut/Caboose and Caboose/Sheila, and Church/Tex, and hints of Kerry/Doc. And a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Cursing, annoying and psychotic spirits, lockers, bleachers, teens and sex, slash, het, kinks, shirts used to tie people up, Spanglish, singing, Lopez singing, phone calls, unconsciousness, P.E. a.k.a. Hell, substitute teachers with fun names, movies, books, thoughts of manslaughter, misery's company, insults in Spanish, incest jokes, worst silver linings ever, those pillows in the nurse's office, and betting.

Chapter 5  
Whispers in the Mind  
Or  
Refusing to be Dominated (By Either a Ghost or Boyfriend)

"I will fucking _exorcise _you," the dark brown haired teen snarled.

Allison, or Tex as she preferred to be called, stood in the small, white conjoining bathroom. Her hands gripped the sink and she stared intensely at her reflection in the mirror, her teeth bared.

"Ooh, testy this morning, aren't we?" a voice whispered in her head.

Suddenly, a phantom-like man appeared next to Tex. His limbs were long, his hair short. His attire casually consisted of a plain short-sleeved shirt and slacks. The girl had no idea what colors anything used to be; he was now just a colorless, practically see-through specter.

"Bastard! You took control of my body and now my mother can't look at me. What did you do?" she demanded. He gave an evil, and slightly obnoxious, laugh.

"Ah, dearest Tex. I told her you were a lesbian. Mwahahahaha!"

"Mother fucking…I'm going to kill you," she snarked, lunging at the phantom. She went right through him, landing face-first on the cold tile floor. She groaned; he laughed.

"I'm already dead, Tex. Did you forget again?" he asked, tone mocking.

"Just you wait, you son of a bitch. I'll get you out of me eventually," she promised. His grating laughter rang inside her head, louder than before.

Tex could already tell what kind of day it was going to be.

XXX

Tex slammed her locker door shut, causing the freshman next to her to jump in fright. The younger girl looked at Tex's frizzled hair, haunted eyes, and the dark circles around them. Tex glared at the thirteen or fourteen-year-old, sending shivers down her spine. The girl backed up slowly, then turned and ran as fast as she could.

"While I do enjoy having people run away from me in fear," Tex said honestly, "I still hate you." The ghost's maniacal laughter rang in her ears.

Tex, unknowingly fingering the dog tags around her neck, walked to where Church's locker was. She leaned her back against it, waiting for the teen. Soon enough, he came.

"Hey, Tex," he greeted. He had the overwhelming urge to kiss her, but he couldn't tolerate the pain of his balls being kicked in. He opted instead to just give her a small smile, more than anyone else got from him.

"Church," she acknowledged with little emotion. She moved so he could get into his locker.

"So, how's it going with O'Malley?" he asked, hanging his coat inside the locker.

"Wonderful," she replied, clapping her hands together. "We're the best of friends through thick and thin, and I just love him in all his ghost-greatness. Tonight, I'm braiding his dead and nonexistent hair. How the fuck do ya think it's going, dumbass?" she snapped, venom dripping with every word.

"Right. Sorry for asking," he grumbled, slamming his locker door closed.

_Ah,_ Tex thought with a mental roll of her obsidian eyes_, here comes his boyfriend to lighten the mood._

"Hey, guys. 'Sup?" Tucker asked, coming over to the -in the loosest terms possible- couple.

"Hey, Tucker. I-"

"Soon, you both with your pointless drabble will be my eternal slaves!" the words, followed by insane laughter, came from Tex, but in a more masculine, diabolical voice. Suddenly, she turned to her left.

"Goddamn it, O'Malley! That's the last straw. I'm getting you the hell out of my body!" She turned again, this time to the right.

"Ha! Dear, dear Allison. You will never rid yourself of me. You will watch as I enslave all those you hold dear for my own amusement!" Tex turned back.

"That's my job!"

Church and Tucker watched the exchange silently, unsure if they should be worried or amused. They opted for the latter, as long as neither ghost nor girl was trying to kill and/or enslave them. At the moment.

The minute bell rang, interrupting Tex and O'Malley's conversation. The three teens and single ghost cursed.

"I gotta go to Photography. The bitch is ridin' my ass for bein' late all this week. See ya," Tucker said, going to his class.

"Well, see you la-hey!" Church exclaimed as Tex grabbed him by the front of his shirt.

She dragged the protesting boy with her as she snuck outside and to the bleachers. She threw him unceremoniously down on the ground.

"What the hell…?" he mumbled as his girlfriend kneeled down.

Tex straddled his waist and crushed their lips together. She grabbed his already-tousled hair and pushed him into the kiss. Taken aback by the girl's force at first, he started to return the kiss readily, his own hands clutching her waist.

Abruptly she pulled away, leaving him panting for more, of both breath and her. Tex removed Church's light blue button up shirt. Roughly and without mercy, she took his hands and forced them behind him. Using his shirt, she tied his hands to the bleachers. Experimentally, he tried to break his bonds; it was fruitless.

"Kinky bitch," he said smirking. She replied with a matching smirk of her own.

"Just like you."

She smashed their lips together again, this time biting at his bottom lip. Then, she shoved her tongue in Church's mouth, relishing his moan. As she bruised his mouth, her hands started to unzip his pants.

XXX

"I'm going to either kill you two, or myself," Grif grumbled, banging his head on the lunch table.

"I'm, too sex for my shirt. Too sexy for my shirt. So sexy, it hurts," Kerry and Donut sang, completely ignoring the older teen.

"That's it, Simmons."

"Hm?" the other teen asked, turning a page in his book, Halo: Fall of Reach.

"Kill me, or help bury the bodies. Or give me an alibi," he ordered.

"Or I could continue reading my book," he replied. "Yeah, I like my idea."

"Wow, I love your support," Grif told him, voice dry.

"Can't you just ignore them?" Simmons asked, eyes still scanning the pages.

"How can you?" he retorted incredulously. Simmons shrugged.

"I've had plenty of practice from you."

"Hey!"

"This shit is bananas. B-a-n-a-n-a-s. This shit," the duo sang together.

"…Hate you, Gwen Stefani," he cursed, eye twitching. He looked back at Simmons.

"Shouldn't you be _studying?"_

"This is helping me with science," the smaller teen replied with a grin.

"You know what you could be doing instead?" Grif said slyly. "It would help you out in Health, P.E., _and _Science. Chemistry and Anatomy in particular. So, why not study all that by us having-"

"If the next word out of your mouth is 'sex' or anything related to sex, I'll castrate you," Simmons warned, eyes still going over his book. Grif promptly shut his mouth.

"Hey, Lopez, you should sing," Donut suggested.

"Yeah! I wanna hear you sing," Kerry agreed.

"No," he replied simply.

"Please?" They begged. They got the same response. "Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-?"

"Fine! If it will get you pedejos to shut up," the senior gave in. He sang a Mexican love song; "No Te Importe Saber" by René Touzet.

"That, I'll never be able to ignore," Simmons cringed with a shudder. Grif grinned, glad to have company to his misery. As Lopez finished, he glared at his younger brother.

"That was great!" cheered Donut.

"Totally! And kinda hot. You should sing more often," Kerry told him. Lopez remained silent, unamused expression on his face.

"We need to find you someone," Donut decided, the determined tone and gleam in his eyes leaving little room for argument. "Do you prefer guys or girls?"

"I'm not a maricon," he replied.

"What's your type of woman?" Donut continued questioning. Lopez just stared at him. "I think you'd like darker hair." The Mexican teen still didn't speak.

"Probably a tall girl," Kerry gave her opinion. "Maybe someone with strength-"

"But still a delicate flower," Donut finished. The cousins started talking about what girls matched up.

"At least they stopped singing," Grif told the older teen with an unapologetic smirk, leaning smugly back in his chair.

"Te odio, puta."

"I have no idea what you just said, but I'm pretty sure it was an insult, so right back at ya, Lopez."

"He said that he hated you," Simmons translated with a grin.

"Since when did you get so good at Spanish?" Grif asked.

"Yeah, like I'm not going to learn a language someone's going to use against me. I don't trust him," Simmons replied, motioning to his brother. "Also, I can't be sure, but I think he called you a whore."

"What!" the brunet exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.

Just then the bell rang and Lopez left before Grif had a chance to do much else; all the while there was a grin plastered on his darker features.

"Bye, Kerry," Donut said with a wave. As she left and Simmons put his book away, the blonde threw an arm around the growling Grif's shoulders.

"Time to sweat," he said, contorting his face up in disgust. "I hate P.E."

"Asshole…Am not a whore," the taller teen mumbled to himself.

"Aw, sounds like you need a pick-me-up. Time for a special Donut Hug!" Donut wrapped both arms around Grif and squeezed.

"One, that's the dumbest name I've ever heard you come up with. Two," this he snarled, "get your fucking hands off me or I'll break them." The younger cousin didn't let go. Rather, he hugged tighter, causing Grif to groan.

"Damn, Donut," Simmons chuckled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think _you _were his boyfriend, the way you show him more affection than I do."

"Stop it with the incest jokes!" they both practically yelled in unison. The dirty blonde let go of his cousin, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

"Come on. Let's go before we're late."

Simmons started walking and the cousins followed him. There was silence between the three, Grif and Donut trying to stay away from each other. They reached the locker room just as the bell rang.

"Hello, boys," greeted a woman in her mid-twenties as the bell resided. "Apparently it never occurred to your school to get a guy sub for a boy's P.E. class, so it looks like you're stuck with me." She let out a small chuckle.

"So, I guess I'll just start roll call." About four names down, she called out, "Franklin Donut…Is that your real name?"

"Yup," the blonde replied, used to the question.

"That's awesome," the woman said.

"No, it's the dumbest name ever," Grif disagreed. Donut turned to him.

"I like my name."

"It's still dumb."

"You're mean, Grif," he told the brunet. Before he could respond, Simmons spoke to the substitute.

"Don't mind them; it's just another lover's spat."

The other two slowly turned to him, jaws agape in disbelieving horror. The rest of the boys in the locker room burst into wild laughter. The substitute just blinked, taken aback by the whole situation. Then, once they found their senses, Donut and Grif started to yell at the smirking Simmons.

"Uh, are they…?" the woman tried to ask one of the boys closest to her.

"The blonde's the tall one's cousin; the brunet's real boyfriend is the black haired one. Their relationship is just really open to incest jokes, 's all," was the reply.

"Oh. Makes sense," she said genuinely. Kinda reminds me of my family." She whistled, getting the three teen's attention.

"If you want odd names, my surname's Pillows," she told them. Grif snorted.

"There is a dumber name than yours, Donut."

"Plus," she continued, "my first name's Lola. Just like that rabbit, and I'm a sandy blonde to boot."

"Your parents must have hated you for a name like that."

"I like to think they did. Still do," she replied with a small nod of her head. She went on with roll call. Afterwards, everyone dressed and moved to the gym.

"Okay, today your teach was going to have you all rope climbing." There was a collective groan. "Yeah, sucks for you guys," she said with a smirk. She checked over the list as she continued speaking. "Uh, Grif…"

"Yeah?"

"Says here he was going to have you go first…and third, fourth, seventh…Hell, he was basically going to have you go a hell o' a lot more times then anybody else," she told him. Grif just sighed.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. He kinda hates me 'cause I'm fuckin' his son," the teen explained, jutting a thumb in Simmons' direction. He merely nodded.

"It's true. I mean, you make it sound like I'm your sex slave and not equal in the relationship at all, but it's true. That's one of the reasons he hates you, anyways. There are _plenty _of others." Simmons and Grif started bickering at each other.

"They're like an old married couple," Pillows noted. Donut nodded.

"Yup. I wouldn't be surprised if they fought during sex…I think they're really kinky," Donut voiced. The substitute made a small noise of agreement. Then she whistled to again get their attention.

"Well, let's do this thing. As they say, the faster you go to the head block, the faster it's cut off," she said good-naturedly.

"Uh, is that analogy really appropriate for this scenario?" Simmons asked.

"It was all I could think of," she admitted sheepishly. "Doesn't matter, though; just go."

Grumbling, Grif went to the long, dangling rope. Grabbing it with both hands, he began to climb.

Dear _god_, he hated rope climbing. Grif would make it to the top, however, because he wasn't abut to have Sarge hang it over his head if he didn't. But he really, _really_ hated physical labor, especially climbing of any sort.

Grif reached the top. He paused for breath, eyes trailing upwards. He noticed the screws holding up the metal the rope was attached to were _extremely _loose. So much, in fact, that he was surprised it all hadn't fallen down when he was climbing…

Suddenly, everything _did _come tumbling down. Grif, eyes clenched shut, felt his impact with the hard gymnasium floor. Then, something collided with his head, and he registered nothing but darkness.

XXX

"So, how about this one?" Church asked, handing Tex a book entitled How to Banish Demons with God's Power.

"This won't work; there can't possibly be a god if I'm stuck with this thing," she told him, pointing distastefully to where O'Malley was. The smug look on his pallid features irritated her to no end.

"Maybe it's Karma's way of…" the teen mumbled, taking and putting the book back on the shelf.

"What was that, Church?"

"Well, maybe it's Karma doing her job. You know, because you fuck everyone but your boyfriend." Tex sighed exasperatedly.

"I had sex with you this morning, isn't that enough?" she replied.

"Why don't you like having sex with me?" he asked, tone accusing. The girl rolled her eyes.

"When are you going to stop whining and grow some balls?" she countered. He didn't say anything.

A few minutes later, Tex found the perfect book. She purchased it, ignoring O'Malley's rants about how she'd never get rid of him, etcetera. Then she got into Church's car, not looking forward to the long, strained silence.

XXX

Slowly, the teen opened his eyes. He quickly shut them, however, as the piercing light assaulted them. He groaned, his hand coming up automatically to his throbbing head.

"Grif, are you okay? How do you feel?" asked a familiar and anxious voice from his bedside.

The brunet reopened his eyes, this time letting them adjust. He took stock of his surroundings, realizing he was on a bed in the nurse's office. On his right was Simmons while Donut and Kerry were on his left. A little ways off to the side and in the background stood the substitute; she was leaning against the wall looking unconcerned (and slightly bored).

"What…what the hell happened?" he asked groggily, voice low and strained.

"You fell, metal hit your head," Pillows informed matter-of-factly, coming over to the edge of the bed.

"Jus' my luck," he mumbled, closing his eyes again.

"It looked painful," Donut commented.

"No," Grif replied, voice dripping with mocking faux reassurance. "Was like a fuckin' tea party."

"Yeah, he seems back to normal already," Kerry commented with a grin.

"How do you feel?" Simmons repeated, wishing everyone else would just shut up for a minute.

"Light, head, dizziness, pain, ow," he mumbled in response.

"Good to see you're coherent," Pillows chuckled. The teen could only manage a growl. "Well, I'm gonna have a talk with the nurse. You have fun with your harem." Grif opened his eyes to glare at the sandy blonde.

"Sorry," she said with an unapologetic grin. "The incest jokes are a must."

She left the three teens alone. Simmons unconsciously started to stroke Grif's hair as Donut and Kerry laughed about the situation; the older two didn't listen to them. Eventually, Grif spoke.

"So, how long was I out?"

"Well, it's almost the end of sixth period now," the black haired boy answered.

"…So why didn't someone take me to the hospital?" Simmons shrugged.

"No one thought about it," Donut said matter-of-factly.

"Wow. Thanks a lot there, everyone."

"Hey, you're still alive," Kerry pointed out.

"I think I died, and there really is a hell," Grif mumbled, eyes closed again. Simmons looked down sadly at his boyfriend, yet didn't say anything. Pillows chose that moment to come back in.

"The period's almost over, and the nurse said it's probably best if you don't drive." Grif's eyes shot open in terror.

"But, but then who's gonna drive my baby…?" He turned to the smiling Donut who had pulled out his license and was waving it around. "Oh, hell no!"

"Aw, how am I gonna get any experience in life if you don't let me _do_ anything?" he whined.

"Not. My. Baby. Never," he practically hissed.

"Calm down, Grif," Simmons ordered, pressing a hand against the other teen's shoulder. "I'll drive your damn car."

"Thank you," he said softly, settling back against the almost plastic-foam pillow.

"Men and their cars," the woman said with a small laugh and shake of her head.

"Especially that one," said Kerry, patting her pouting cousin's back.

"No fair," he mumbled.

"So, how's your head? Can ya see straight?" Pillows asked him. Grif looked in her general direction.

"Well, minus you guys all having twins and the world spinnin', I'm doing pretty damn good. I'm not the only one who hears the intense, shrill ringing, right?" he asked in reply.

"Yeah, you're fine. After some rest, you'll be back to normal," she assured.

"That's not much of an improvement," Donut snarked, still bitter.

The blonde was ignored, however, as Grif held a hand out in front of his face. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake off his double vision. He glanced over at both Simmons, who he noticed hadn't looked away from him since he'd woken up.

Slowly, Grif reached towards his boyfriend with his left hand. Tentatively, he edged his fingers closer to the freckles on Simmons' cheek.

"Tryin' to see which is the real you," he explained sheepishly. The darker haired teen nodded.

"So is that why you're groping my ass?" Simmons asked through gritted teeth.

"Uh, yes?" Grif tried. He received a hard smack upside the head.

"Ow! Who the hell hits an injured person?" the brunet exclaimed.

"Someone who's just been groped by said injured person after specifically telling him not until after finals!" Simmons stubbornly yelled back.

"You were right, Lola; Grif is back to normal already," Kerry told the older woman. She just smirked.

"Course. Now pay up." She held out her hand and Kerry laid a twenty dollar bill in it. Grif and Simmons turned to the two females.

"You bet on me?" Grif asked incredulously.

"Why wouldn't we?" Pillows asked, rolling her blue eyes.

"…This really doesn't surprise me," Simmons said. After a moment, his boyfriend nodded in agreement.

"Well, I'm going to leave you alone to recover with your harem. Ciao," Pillows said, exiting the room.

"She's insane," Grif mumbled to himself.

"Yeah, me an' Donut are gonna go, too," Kerry told them.

"You guys need some _alone time_," Donut added meaningfully, throwing in a wink for good measure. The cousins followed the substitute out of the room.

"After a minute, Simmons requested that Grif take his hand off his posterior, lest he wanted to be unconscious again. Needless to say, Grif removed his hand.

"So, you really okay?" the black hired teen asked him, concern leaking out.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured, leaning back against his pillow. He cringed as the pillowcase crinkled.

They staid in a comfortable silence like that for a while. Somehow, Simmons found himself holding and stroking Grif's hand. The other boy's eyes were half-lidded; he seemed to stare straight ahead, but in reality his gaze was on the teen next to him.

Unfortunately, the bell rang, signaling not only the end of school, but the end of the moment, as well. Simmons let go of Grif and Grif looked away from Simmons.

Soon, Kerry, Donut, and Lopez came into the room. It was decided that, since Simmons was driving Grif's car, Lopez would follow them and the brothers would go home together.

Somehow, the plans turned into the five teens watching a movie: Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

They were crowded on the couch, Kerry and Donut on the right end with eyes glued to the screen, Lopez on the other side, sitting next to Grif and Simmons. The brunet was resting against Simmons, their hands linked.

The movie ended and Donut took out the DVD as Kerry turned on the lights. Turning back to the couch, the blonde made a sound akin to "aw."

"You guys are such a cute couple!" he squealed. Kerry nodded and made a sound of agreement.

Quickly, Grif and Simmons let go of each other and the former sat up straight. They weren't touching at all. Both boys were blushing slightly.

XXX

After leaving, with a goodbye kiss to Grif-where Kerry and Donut made gushing sounds of adoration, Lopez and Simmons got into the older teen's black Mercedes. About half-way through the ride home, Simmons leg started vibrating.

"Goddamn it, Donut," he cursed, taking out his sleek, dark red mobile. Lopez glanced over at him, eyebrow raised.

"¿Qué?" The smaller boy remembered that the word meant "what."

"Donut keeps taking my phone and setting the vibration to its fullest," he said in explanation, before looking at the caller ID. In one swift movement, he flipped it open and held the phone to his ear, greeting, "Hello, Sarge."

"Simmons, is Lopez with ya?" came the strained, gruff voice of his father.

"Yeah, he's right here…" Simmons replied, concerned by the heavy yelling in the background. "Sarge, is everything alright?"

"Don't worry, son," the man said, avoiding a real answer. "Put it on speaker phone." The teen did as told. "I'm gonna be stayin' here a few days. You two hold down th' fort."

"Okay…"

"Sí."

"Good. I've got ta go now. G'bye."

"Bye…"

"Adios."

Sarge hung up and, after staring at the phone in nervous bewilderment, Simmons did the same. He turned to his brother.

"I wonder what's going on," he mumbled, more to himself. Lopez shrugged, focusing on the road as he pulled into their street.

Probably nothing good," he replied carelessly. The younger boy could only gulp.


	7. Chapter 6 Disputes are a Part of Growing

**A/N: **This is chapter six. Chapter six is late. This is the author. The author has just become single again, by breaking a poor eighteen-year-old's heart, worked hard on the play she was in just to have it be cut because no one was getting along, everyone was ignoring the "boss", as the teacher liked to call himself, and has had an, overall, horrid few weeks. But, I'm going to get this posted up, and hopefully get chapter seven on time. Sorry for the delay, and I hope you all enjoy.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there is Grif/Simmons in abundance, one-sided Donut/Caboose and Caboose/Sheila, and Church/Tex, and hints of Kerry/Doc. And a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Cursing, the use of the name Jessica, cheerleading practice cut short, arguments, apple pie, cooking, strange rituals, derogative terms, Kerry likes cherries, fathers, more phone calls, snow, teasing, mobiles, bags, messes, forgetfulness, floors, chalk, symbols, eggs, oven mitts, whipped cream innuendos, fluff, and forks.

Chapter 6  
Disputes are a Part of Growing Up  
Or  
Never-lasting (Because People Suck, the Obvious Fact of Life)

Grif had staid home from school on Friday, still needing time to heal. Simmons had told him to rest plenty and _study. _He knew the stubborn, lazy procrastinator wouldn't, though. As long as Grif was okay, Simmons was pretty sure he didn't care.

Since Grif couldn't drive, Simmons had offered (been cajoled) to pick Donut and Kerry up from practice. The girl had been let back on the cheerleading squad (because what Donut said went, him being the head cheerleader and all) and they were both ecstatic.

"Jessica K. and Jessica G. get your damn pom-poms up!" Donut yelled. He was getting ready to beat them all to death with the things in a minute.

Ignoring both Jessicas' glares, Donut went on with practice. He wanted to get done as soon as possible so he could help Grif make an apple pie like they always did every Friday night. (The older boy would constantly joke that they always did the same thing because they had no life. Plus, apple pie was unarguably great.)

"Okay, we need to work on-" A frustrated yell interrupted him.

"Damn it, stop running into me!"

"Well, maybe if you weren't a step behind, that wouldn't happen," came the haughty retort.

"Ugh! You're a step ahead, you stupid little bitch!"

Everyone else had stopped what they were doing to watch the exchange; it was between Ashley and Kerry. Both had adopted angry stances, hands and pom-poms down at their sides and eyes fiercely locked.

"Guys," Donut tried. "We really shouldn't be-"

"What did you just call me, you whore?" Kerry demanded, interrupting the boy.

"Oh, if anyone here's a whore, it's you. Always flirting with every single guy," Ashley accused.

"Ashley, Kerry, we don't need this right now. Can't we all try and get al-" Donut attempted again.

"Hey, nothing's wrong with flirting with single guys," Kerry defended with a huff.

"Oh, please. You'll probably fuck anything that moves," Ashley said with a sneer.

"Okay, that's too far!" Donut stepped in before Kerry could make her own retort. The blonde stomped over to the two brunettes, glaring at the taller of the pair. "We don't need this kind of drama."

"Oh, don't even try to pretend. You're just trying to defend your stupid cousin," she snarked.

"Ah, come off it, Ashley. You know that's total crap."

"Yeah, right," she snorted.

"My god, are you jealous?" Donut asked incredulously.

"What? Of course not! Why'd I be jealous of that whore and your faggot ass?" she scoffed.

Donut's jaw, along with everyone else's, dropped, then, the boy gritted his teeth, his glare at the girl intensifying.

"Okay, you're the only whore here. You're off the squad," he told her, seething.

"What!" Ashley exclaimed, disbelievingly.

"You. Are. Off. The. Squad," he repeated, carefully enunciating every word so there could be no mistaking what he said.

Ashley's eyes narrowed and she stormed past the blonde and his cousin. In a fit of rage, she thrust her red and white pom-poms viciously to the ground.

Donut took a deep breath, closing his eyes automatically. When he reopened them, he looked at the rest of the squad. "That's it for today. Have a great weekend, everyone," he dismissed, voice hollow. He turned and walked to the parking lot; Kerry followed after him.

Finding Grif's car in the lot, Donut threw open the door and got into the back seat as Kerry went to the other side, meekly crawling in next to Simmons.

"How was prac-" the older teen began, marking his place in his sci-fi novel.

"Don't wanna talk about it," the blonde practically growled, his posture slouched and arms crossed over his chest. Kerry refused to look at either boy.

"Okay then…" Simmons mumbled to himself, turning the key in the ignition. The drive proved to be tensely silent. The older teen expected at any moment for someone to snap and start screaming-or worse, crying.

Fortunately, when they arrived at the cousins' place, no one had yet broken. Though, Donut had flown out of the car, slamming the door hard behind him, before Simmons had a chance to turn off the ignition. Wordlessly, he turned Kerry, the obvious question in his eyes. She just shook her head weakly, teeth biting her bottom lip, before getting out of the car herself.

Donut stormed inside the house, ignoring Grif's greeting: "Hey, 'bout time you're home. Get out of your skirt and let's make pie." The blonde ran up the stairs as Kerry and Simmons came in. They all heard when Donut slammed his bedroom door.

"What the fuck put him in such a pissy mood?" Grif asked them. He received a shrug from his boyfriend while his sister went directly to the kitchen table and sat down, laying her head on her folded arms. She groaned, causing her worried sibling to look from her to Simmons then back to her. Going over to the table he asked:

"Okay, who do I have to kill?" Simmons could only give another shrug as Kerry still refused to talk.

XXX

Donut thrust open his bedroom door and, after roughly slamming it shut again, threw himself onto the bed. He buried his head into a pillow to stifle a scream.

The teen, about ten minutes later, switched positions so he was sitting cross-legged against his head board. Absentmindedly, he pulled a dark pink pillow into his lap and started fiddling with its tassels. It occurred to him that he was still wearing his cheerleading outfit; he had left his bag at school.

"Oh, damn it…" the blonde groaned, hugging the pillow to his chest. He pressed his face into the pillow, biting his lower lip.

Suddenly, a hip-hop beat filled the room. Donut looked up, eyes going to his vanity. Apparently he had forgotten to put his cell phone in his bag. That was lucky. He got up and answered it; the caller ID had read Grif.

"Why are you calling my phone if we're in the same house?" the blonde asked in place of a proper greeting.

"'Cause if I just yelled you'd of ignored me," the older boy replied simply.

"No I wouldn't have…"

"Bullshit, I know you."

"Whatever. Why'd you call?" Donut asked, cutting to the chase. He really didn't feel like talking to anyone, let alone his snarky cousin.

"Because if I didn't call you down to make the damn pie with me, I'd have to listen to you bitch about it 'till the day I died," he told the younger boy. Donut couldn't help but grin.

"Now get your skirt wearin' ass down here; I want pie and I'm not waitin'."

"Okay, I'll be down in a minute," Donut said. Grif snorted.

"A minute to you is ten in reality." The blonde blew a raspberry into the phone.

"Shut up. I'll be down in _one minute_," he assured, hanging up and putting the phone back on his vanity.

Cheerfully, he stripped out of his uniform and into a pair of overalls, a light pink t-shirt, and a pair of open-toe sandals he had borrowed from Kerry and never returned (she had grown out of them and just let the boy have them; his feet were luckily smaller than hers-they were awesome rainbow colored shoes).

Donut left his room and went downstairs. He was greeted with the site of Grif poking Simmons, who was glaring dangerously at the taller boy, with a wooden spoon as Kerry was stacking cherries into pyramids. Still smiling, he made his way over to the table.

"Hey, guys! Come on, Grif, let's make some apple pie!" Grif looked up at him, grinning broadly.

"See, told ya ten minutes. Ow!" he exclaimed, having been hut upside the head.

"Was not, you over-exaggerator. Now come on," Donut ordered, dragging his cousin off the chair by his collar, much to everyone else's amusement.

"Damn it, stop pulling me, Donut," Grif said before being let go. "Thank you…commanding little bitch," he mumbled under his breath.

They got to work on baking the long awaited apple pie. Kerry and Simmons watched, as per usual, hassling them whenever one dropped an egg, picked up the bag of flour upside-down, bruised an apple, or any other such hold up.

Finally, after covering themselves and the kitchen in egg, flour, apple skins, and scattering all types of cooking utensils, the pie was baked. Donut, pink oven mitts covering hands, opened the oven door. He took out the piping hot apple pie and laid it down on the table in front of Simmons and Kerry.

"'Bout time," they said, grinning as the cooks threw oven mitts at them.

Grif got out a large carving knife, threatened to cut off Donut's pig-tails if he hopped all the whipped cream, and sliced the pie as the blonde made an innuendo about Grif and Simmons being the ones who always used up the whipped cream. He received a glare, middle finger, giggle-from Kerry of course- and his oven mitt thrown back at him in reply.

They sat down and everyone started eating the pie. All of them were cracking jokes and insults, threatening each other, Kerry kept popping cherries into her mouth, much like a pill-addict, without sharing any-until Donut tickled her as a diversion while Grif grabbed a handful, and at one point Simmons even teased Grif with the whipped cream when the other two weren't paying attention.

Grif, legs crossed, chucked a cherry pit at Simmons as he said to Donut, "I vote you clean up the kitchen since you're the one who dropped the eggs."

"What!" he squeaked in exclamation. "Only because you poked me in the back of the next with the wooden spoon. And it was wet. Plus," the blonde reminded pointedly. "You picked up the flour bottom up so it got everywhere."

Before Grif had a chance to defend himself (though he really had no excuse besides carelessness) the front door opened and Donut's father walked in. he surveyed the disarray of the group of teenagers and his kitchen, a pleasant smile on his face.

"What went on in here?" he asked.

"Hi, dad! It's Friday," Donut hinted, a sliver of hope in his voice.

"…And?"

Internally, Donut's heart popped-though outwardly he didn't change, even smiled a bit at his father (however crooked it felt on his face).

The other three teens were wisely staying quiet. Donut's relationship with his father had been draining on the blonde for the past four years, since his mother had been out of the picture. The seemingly perpetually happy man had submerged himself in his work, for the most part ignoring his son.

"Oh, wait. I remember now," Donut's father said. "You and your mother used to bake pies every Friday."

"Yeah, and we've been doing it without her for four-"

"Trying to bring back the tradition?" the man asked, interrupting the teenager. "Well, you kids have fun. I'm going to go change out of this suit. It's really snowing out there." He disappeared up the stairs.

Everyone turned to Donut, who was still staring at the spot his father had been in. slowly, the fake smile fell from his face and he lowered his head. He started to poke at his slice of pie with a fork.

"You're lucky your dad didn't notice your wearin' girl clothes," Grif pointed out, trying to lighten the mood by a subject change. Donut looked at his flour-and-egg covered overalls and pink shirt.

"Oh, yeah, you're right," Donut mumbled, blinking dumbly. Sometimes it was good his father wasn't perspective.

Simmons' phone chose that moment to start vibrating. He took it out of his pocket, muttering to himself to remember to set it back on a ringtone, and quickly glanced at the caller ID. It was his father.

Answering it he greeted, "Hi, Sarge. Is everything alright?"

"It'll be fine," the man assured, voice gruff and seemingly distracted. The teen was fully aware how he had used the future tense in place of present tense.

"When do you think you'll be back, sir?" Simmons asked.

"'Round midnight tomorrow," he replied.

"So, what exactly is goin on-" the teenager tried to ask he was cut off abruptly, however, with an obvious diversion.

"It's snowin' over there, ain't it?" Sarge asked.

"Yeah, I think it is. Pretty hard," he informed.

"Yer at Grif's, ain'tcha?"

"Um, oh, well…Uh, yes…yes, sir," he stuttered, blush creeping unto his face.

"Then I want ya ta stay with him fer th' night. Don't need you or Lopez drivin' an' getting' hurt," he told his son. Simmons blinked a few (dozen) times in stunned silence. Then, he was able to squeak out a single word:

"What!"

"Ya heard me, boy. Now I've got ta go. G'night."

"Good…goodnight, Sarge…" Simmons said back to him, hanging up. He only vaguely noticed the other three in the room how had intently been listening to his half of the conversation.

"What the hell did he say?" Grif asked at last.

"He…he said to spend the night here…" Simmons told them disbelievingly.

"Sarge?" Donut questioned incredulously.

"Maybe he was brainwashed," Kerry suggested.

"No, I know what that sneaky bastard's tryin' to do. He's tryin' to find a really, _really _good reason to kill me," Grif said, more than just slightly on the paranoid side.

"He already has that," Simmons dismissed off-handedly. "Something serious must be happening." There was silence for a minute as they all took the words in.

"So, when's he coming home?" Donut asked.

"Midnight tomorrow," the older teen relayed.

"I guess you're not going to disobey daddy dearest, huh," Grif commented slyly, any trace of distrust of the man currently, while not gone, forgotten.

"You're sleeping on the floor," Simmons replied simply.

"What!"

"Let's clean the kitchen now so I can get all this flour and stuff offa me," Donut said, brushing a small spot on his shirt. The others agreed and they began to take care of the extensive mess.

XXX

"Hey, Tex?" Church asked. "Why the hell are we doing this in _my_ basement?"

"Because my _wonderful _mother is still convinced I'm a lesbian and won't stop praying for my 'corrupt soul'," Tex replied dryly. "And this little asshole over here isn't making anything better." She jabbed a thumb in her cousin's direction where he sat on an antique Victorian-style chair.

"He told her how I was 'close to Sheila and holding her hands intimately'. Failing to mention that I was _teaching her how to hold a badminton racket."_ Andy burst into rambunctious laughter.

"Ha! Don't worry, Tex. Everyone realizes you're not a lesbian. Hell, we can see where you tucked it in!" The humor was short lived as a fork landed into the wall just centimeters from his head.

"You know, I don't think my mom appreciates you throwing her silverware," Church told her mildly.

"Oh, they're down in the basement anyways, why would she care? Or even notice?"

"You crazy bitch!" Andy finally exclaimed, coming out of shock. Though, deep down he expected nothing less form the ill-tempered and slightly psychotic girl.

Tucker, coming down the stairs, whistled as he surveyed the three and the basement itself. Everywhere in white chalk was an elaborate star-like symbol. In the middle of the floor was a big chalk circle, in it another, similar design.

"About damn time you showed up," Tex said as the boy came over and stood next to Church.

"Yeah, yeah. It's good to see you, too, shark-woman," he mumbled. Tex growled and took an angry step in his direction. Backing up behind her boyfriend he begged, "Please don't kill me, Tex!"

Before the girl had a chance to say or, more likely, do anything, Sheila and Caboose came down the stairs. The latter was babbling nonsense while the female was nodding politely and making small noises in all the right places.

"Now that they're here, can you tell us what the hell to do?" Church asked, exasperated.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, Churchy," she replied, causing him to let out a long sigh.

"I fucking hate that nickname."

"Well, because I can't stand your company for very long, excluding yours of course, Sheila, I'm goin' to quickly explain this whole procedure. And only once, so pay attention.

"See, the symbols have to stay in place for about twenty-four hours before doing the ritual. At least six people are needed to do this, and we'll all need to have the symbols on us as well, but they can be placed on at any time. I've already put them on myself, Church, and the little bastard over there. It's just easier to do this now, so give me your arms so I can put them on you," she ordered, taking out a black sharpie. The three obeyed.

"It's very important that there are no errors. If the tiniest mistake is made, O'Malley could transfer into one of you guys. Or worse," she told them with a shudder. "He could stay in me."

"Wow, this doesn't sound dangerous at all," Tucker muttered. Tex shot him a glare, sending a chill down the dark-skinned boy's spine.

"So, wait, why isn't O'Malley trying to stop all this?" Church asked. Before she could reply, a menacing, mocking laughter filled the basement, seeming to come form every direction.

"The son of a bitch is too cocky. He thinks it won't work, but I'll be the one fucking laughing when he's gone for good," she answered, the last part more to herself.

The arrogant ghost only laughed louder and harder.

XXX

Donut and Kerry, both flour and egg free, tip-toed to Grif's bedroom. Opening the door a crack, they peered in. On the bed both boys were tangled together, chests rising and falling in a calm beat.

"Aww," Kerry sounded.

"They make such a cute couple," Donut commented in a whisper.

"I know," the girl gushed back, voice just as low.

Both giggled as Grif snuggled into Simmons' chest, the latter tightening his hold on his bigger frame. They shut the door as quietly as they could before going to their own rooms.

"I'm surprised neither of us said anything to that," Simmons commented with a soft smile, eyes remaining closed.

"Too damn comfortable right now to care," Grif mumbled sleepily.

"Same here. Night, Dex."

"G'night, Dick."

Soon, both teens were fast asleep, never letting go of each other until late morning in what was considered day, after being awake for a few hours.


	8. Chapter 7 Slipping Off With Another

**A/N: **You know, writing Spanglish for Lopez really is good practice for me. I love brushing up on my Spanish insults (and learning some new ones).  
And if you'll notice, I never posted anything up last week. I sort of forgot. Sorry, folks. I was really busy so I guess it just slipped my mind. If it's any consolation, I think this might be the longest chapter yet.  
So, I have these friends who really want to read some of my writings. I mention, actually I was talking out loud to myself, this fic, and they want to read it. I seriously hope they never find this. It's not that I couldn't deal with their reactions to the fact that it's slash, I just don't _want_ to. I only like dealing in card games. Except Poker, especially Black Jack 21.  
And if anyone sees any mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there's Grif/Simmons in abundance, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc and slight one-sided Kerry/Tucker. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Cursing, slash, het, clothing arguments, big brothers, getting caught, ghosts, alcohol, drinking, smoking, complaining, jealousy, hugging, light, misinterpretations, collars and leashes, rituals, symbols, sabotage, Spanglish, Spanish, kisses, keys, fluff, embarrassment, lack of logic, and plotting.

Chapter 7  
Slipping Off With Another  
Or  
There are Doubles, Singles, Jealousy, and Rituals in this Game

Donut, Kerry, Simmons, Grif, and Lopez-who had been conned into going-made their way to the front door. Donut, being ahead of the others, knocked. It was answered soon after by Church, a half-empty Jack Daniel's in hand.

"Hi, Church! Is Caboose here yet?" he asked eagerly. He didn't notice how the other teen gritted his teeth.

"Yeah, the idiot's here," he grumbled as Donut came inside, followed by the others.

"Yay! Thanks, Church," Donut said, giving the older teen a quick hug before bounding off to find Caboose.

Before he had a chance to really care about being left by the cheerleader, Kerry's arms were suddenly around him in a giant, slightly breathtaking hug. He looked down at the brunette with a good-natured sigh.

"You people are really fuckin' physical. My girlfriend touches me less," he mumbled.

"Then you need a new girlfriend," Kerry replied with a small wink.

"I, um…" Church was saved from having to stutter a semi-coherent sentence to the girl as Grif pulled her off of him.

"Seriously, sis. One, what the hell's with wearing such fuckin' skimpy clothing? Especially in the middle of winter?" Grif demanded, motioning towards her wardrobe choice.

She had on a dark-red skirt that stopped mid-thigh, a yellow bellybutton-showing shirt with the face of a cat on it, and a thing green sweater jacket she had hanging off her shoulders.

"What? I don't see anything wrong with what I'm wearing," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and pointing indignantly.

"There's plenty wrong with it! For starters, I can see your bellybutton," he told her.

"So?"

Uh-oh. A sibling argument. Every nerve in Church's body screamed at him to slip away before it was-

"Church!" exclaimed two voices in unison.

-too late.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Don't you like my outfit?" Kerry asked.

"If he likes anything," her brother growled, "it's the fact that he can see so much of you!"

"I, uh, have to go…over there because, um…yeah, I just need to go _way_ over there, now. You guys have fun." Church turned and left that pair of squabbling siblings, only to bump in on Simmons and Lopez's heated conversation.

"Hey, Church," the younger brother said. "We need your opinion." The teen groaned inwardly; times like this made him thankful he was an only child.

"I really need to go…somewhere else…" he told them weakly.

"_I _want to go home because, one, finals are next week and I need to study, and two, our dad will be _home in a few hours," _he said, glaring at Lopez towards the end.

"You're the one who dragged me along in the first place," the Mexican brother reminded.

"Well, I changed my mind."

"Besides, like hell I'm driving home after just getting here, pendejo," Lopez said, leaving little room for argument.

"Cockbite."

"Maricon."

Church turned and left without another word. He wanted to unwind, not deal with people and their problems. Or his own, for that matter.

"Church," Andy called out, coming over to the older teen. He heaved a sigh before acknowledging the freshman.

"What?"

"Dude, your master is really freaking me out-" he told him.

"What the hell did you just say?" he demanded.

"Well, you're Tex's bitch," Andy explained. "See, she's down in the basement jus' starin' at the symbols and mumblin' to herself. Goddamn she's really fuckin' scary as hell like that."

"I'm not her bitch, you fuckin asshole. And she's not my master. Do you see a leash and collar around my neck?"

"What do you think she's gonna get you fro Christmas?" Andy asked with a snort.

"I really fuckin' hate you. Why don't you go bother someone else?" Church suggested, shooing the younger boy off.

"Eh, go to hell, cocksucker," he replied, sticking up his middle finger and walking off.

Church went to the table, grabbed a new Jack Daniels, and popped the cap off. He took a swig, eyes surveying the room. They stopped on Tucker; he was sitting on the couch next to Kerry, who had slipped away from her overprotective sibling, shamelessly flirting with her as she flirted with Doc. Who was oblivious to it. He gave a small chuckle before leaning against a nearby wall and looking at a different part of the room.

His eyes fell on Donut. Hair pulled back into pig tails, eyes a vibrant blue, and a smile on his face. Church noticed how the dim lighting of the room seemed to accent his face, making him glow. He latched on to Caboose's arm and Church's eyes narrowed automatically. Unknowingly, he began to growl, taking another drink of his whiskey.

XXX

"Fucking pointless argument," Simmons grumbled to himself as he walked away from his brother-who was smirking triumphantly. "Goddamn smug cockbite…"

Fuming, he went over to where an equally defeated sat in a dark corner, bottle in hand. Simmons grabbed a chair next to him.

"Don't drink; it's not good for you," he told the brunet.

"My liver screams for poison, though," Grif replied, grinning as Simmons punched him on the shoulder none-too-gently.

"Ow! Hey, would ya rather me blow smoke in your face?" he suggested.

"I'd never give you sex again and you know it," Simmons replied with a chuckle.

"Damn. Sometimes I wonder if you're tryin' ta make me take a vow of celibacy," he commented, words more like a though said out loud.

"Hell no!" Simmons answered quickly. Grif let out a laugh as his boyfriend glared at him. Soon, however, he joined in.

After a while of just talking and laughing, Simmons mouth became inexplicably dry. Licking his lips he commented, "I need something to drink."

"Here," Grif said, offering his bottle.

"Are you really that stupid? One, whisky will just make me thirstier and two, I don't drink."

"Hey, nothin's wrong wit drinkin'," Grif slightly slurred.

"How many have you had?" Simmons asked. The other teen started counting on his fingers.

"'Fore you came I had three. But I c'n hold my liquor," he answered.

"Yeah, and soon you're going to die from liver cancer."

"Th' maggots'll love me," he said with a lopsided grin, saluting with the bottle before taking a drink. "Need 'nother one soon," he mumbled to himself, looking at the shot-amount left.

"Or you could stop drinking," Simmons suggested.

"You jus' don't drink 'cause you can't hold your liquor," Grif snorted. The smaller teen's eyes narrowed.

"I can hold my liquor damn well and fine," he told Grif. "_I _just have willpower."

"Oh, okay. You're jus' in denial."

"What? No, I'm not."

As far as I can remember, you've never actually drunk," Grif said, satisfied that he'd won the argument.

"No, and I am proud of that fact," Simmons announced, adopting an air of I'm-better-than-that-so-I-win.

"So, since you've never drunk, how do you _know _that you c'n hold your liquor?" Grif challenged.

"I…I just do," Simmons replied, confidence wavering under the lack of evidence.

"Then prove it."

"What do you mean?"

"Prove you c'n hold your liquor."

"I don't need to prove anything to you," Simmons replied with a huff. Grif just looked at him in silence. After a minute the Dutch-Irish boy exclaimed, "Fine, damn it! But only a little…Just enough to show that I can hold alcohol and I've got willpower."

Grif, giving a self-satisfied smirk at his boyfriend's fast change of mind, handed him the almost-empty bottle. Simmons snatched it roughly from his hands and gulped it down, wanting to get the experience over with.

He blanched and almost gagged at the stinging liquid as it washed over his mouth then down his throat. It assaulted his taste buds viciously, the bitter and foreign drink relentless and unapologetic as it burned his throat. It didn't quench his thirst, either; rather, the brew greatened it.

"There, happy?" Simmons asked, seething as he thrust the now-empty bottle back into Grif's arms.

"There wasn't even that much left in there," Grif protested. "You need to drink more 'en that."

"No," Simmons refused. "No, no, no. absolutely not…Where are you going?" Grif left, but returned soon after with another bottle of Jack Daniels. "Grif. Hell. No."

"Okay, have it your way, Dick. Guess we've proved that _I _can hold my liquor an' you can't." he sat back down after his fake ending of the disagreement.

"What? No you don't, cockbite. Give me that," Simmons demanded, taking the bottle from the other teen just as he finished popping the cap off. He put the opening to his lips and threw his head back. Grif just watched, mouth twisted into an amused smirk.

The burning sensation was still strange, but Simmons was starting to enjoy it with the more he drunk. Well, he at least didn't mind it as much. Lowering the bottle, he blinked rapidly and let out a single hiccup. His mind was starting to pleasantly fuzz round the edges.

"Is it holdin'?" Grif asked.

"The room ish really shpinnin', huh?" Simmons asked, more to himself. Then, he gave a small laugh that turned into a hiccup, causing him to laugh harder.

"Okay, you've had 'nuff," the brunet decided, prying the half-left bottle from his hands.

For a while they sat with silence between them, Grif watching the other-who was swaying slightly and blinking rapidly-warily. Then, quite suddenly, Simmons turned to him and suggested, extremely giddy, "We should take th' keysh from Lo_pez _an' go make-out in th' back sheat!"

"Yeah, you're definitely drunk," he evaluated with a chuckle. "You're not used to alcohol, so I should probably keep an eye on you."

"…Ish tha' a yesh or a no?"

"Depends which head answers th' question," he mumbled. "But, uh, when you sober, I think it'd be best to find out that I _didn't_ take advantage of you…Even though I _seriously_ want to." Simmons looked up at him, eyes big and pleading while his lips were out in a pout. "_Really_ badly."

XXX

"Hey, guys, I'll be right back. I need to go talk to Donut," Kerry told the two teens before giving a flirtatious wink to Doc and giggling. Then she left them alone.

"So," the studying nurse said awkwardly after a minute of silence.

"How do _you _get the chicks?" Tucker asked disbelievingly.

"What?"

"Man, Kerry was all over you," he informed, jealousy creeping into his voice.

"She was?" It was Doc's turn for disbelief.

"Yeah, and completely ignoring me. I mean, what the hell could she see in a guy like you? Hell, I think _Caboose_ is more appealing," he griped.

"Do you like Kerry?" Doc asked, voice like that of a psychiatrist talking to his patient.

"She's hot," he replied simply without a pause for thought.

"Huh, that's funny. I always thought…" he trailed off.

"What?"

"Well, I always assumed you liked Church."

"What!"

"It's just, you're always with him, constantly picking a fight with him, yet know how to calm him down better than anyone else. And two seem to know each other better than anyone else. You're a lot more compatible with Church than Tex is," Doc explained.

Tucker could only sit there in stunned silence, mouth in open shock and eyes paralyzed on the other teen. His mind had gone black. After a while he was able to shut his mouth (which greatly stifled Doc's growing feeling of dread) and finally blink. His lips moved as if he were trying to talk, though no words came out.

"Hey, guys," a familiar voice said. Doc and Tucker turned, the latter rather frantically and palling, and stared at the speaker.

"Oh, hello, Church. We were-" Doc was cut off abruptly as Tucker quickly sprung up from the couch.

"I've, uh, gottago," he rushed out, walking past the shorter teen hastily. Church looked at Doc curiously.

"Th' hell's with him?" he questioned.

"Um, that's undisclosed information. Sorry, Church, I can't tell you," he responded.

"Right. I'm just going to guess that he really needs to get laid," the smaller boy assumed, sitting down.

"Er, close."

XXX

Somehow, Simmons had slipped away, out from under Grif's vigilant watch. The drunk teen, only swaying _slightly, _thank-you-very-much, made his way towards Lopez. The older boy seemed to have refused a sexual offer form some horny and willing girl as she stomped away angrily.

"'Ey, Lo…Lo…Bro," Simmons tried before settling on an easier word. The Mexican teen raised one eyebrow humorously.

"You are drunk," he stated.

"No 'm'not. I c'n hold _my _lick-her," the younger boy replied stubbornly.

"Idiota. Sarge gets home en un hora," Lopez reminded, though he knew it'd do no good. Simmons inanely half-chuckled, half-sighed exasperatedly.

"Hey, shee Done-ut ovah th're?" he asked, pointing behind the Mexican.

"Sí…Por qué?" he asked in reply, turning to where Simmons pointed.

"He'sh tryin' ta shet ya up wit shomebody, 'gain," he slurred. Lopez turned back around only to find his brother grinning madly.

"Bastardo," he growled.

"Well, I'm-a needed elsh-where." With those last words, the drunken teen turned and disappeared in the crowd of party-goers.

Lopez glared at where Simmons had been, suspicious of his actions. He debated with himself whether or not to believe the words of a drunk; he decided it wouldn't hurt to go check things out. So, Lopez made his way towards Donut, Kerry, and the group they were with.

XXX

Donut gave a secret look to Kerry as they both watched Caboose and Sheila laugh together, the latter with her hand on his shoulder. The boy had been flirting with the Blue cheerleader all night, and the blonde had kept trying to steal his attention. Kerry had seen her cousin's desperation and had come over as quickly as she could; Doc was practically already hers, so a few minutes away from him couldn't hurt.

"And that is when the bunny-man came over and hit tucker in the eye," Caboose said, finishing his tale with a laugh. The others were in stitches themselves.

As Donut wiped a tear of laughter from his eyes, he spotted Lopez coming over. He waved and greeted the older boy.

"Hi, Lopez!" He cringed at the cheeriness in the blonde's voice.

"Pendejo."

"Te amo, Lopez. Gracias," Donut replied. (I love you, Lopez. Thanks.)

"…What are they teaching you in that class?"

"Oh, Lopez, this is Caboose and Sheila," the younger boy introduced, ignoring the question. The boy waved and the girl gave a small, polite greeting.

For the first time, Lopez noticed the Blue cheerleader. Her bouncy, silk-like hair, illuminated obsidian eyes, lovely peach skin, and adorable smile. She was _bonita_.

"Uh…H-hola…" Mentally cursing himself, he looked down, shuffling his feet and twiddling his thumbs.

Donut noticed Lopez's nervousness. He silently turned to his cousin and they shared a singular thought: _Lopez liked Sheila._

Grinning broadly, the blonde whispered into Sheila's ear, "Isn't he cute?"

Sheila, blushing brightly, stuttered, "W-what?"

"Hey, Sheila," Kerry said. "You should get Lopez to sing to you!"

"Qué?"

"I'm sure you have a lovely voice, Lopez, and I'd like to hear it sometime," the girl told him. His hands were getting _very_ sweaty.

"I, uh…"

"His voice is really hot!" Kerry vouched.

"Yeah, especially when he sings in Spanish," Donut added.

"Oh, well…I'd…I'd love to hear you sing in Spanish. It's a beautiful language," she managed to say. Subconsciously, her hands had been playing with her black skirt and now, as she noticed this, Sheila quickly locked her hands behind her back.

Go on and taker her someplace _quiet_," Kerry suggested to Lopez, pushing the older teen towards the cheerleader.

"Um, I…I'm, uh…Would you like to…?" Lopez attempted to ask, unable to find the right words.

"Oh, sure," Sheila answered.

Awkwardly, they both just stood there, unable to look at each other. Finally, getting tired of it and eager to get them alone together, Donut took both their hands and intertwined them together. He shooed them away saying, "Show her a good time."

Slowly, reluctantly, their hands left the other and Lopez awkwardly led her away. Donut and Kerry shared a smile, while Caboose watched their retreating backs with a sad glare on his face.

"I do not like where this is going," he mumbled. "He's not right for her. _He _didn't bake her cupcakes that looked like her."

"Well, I'm gonna go back to _Doc _and Tucker," Kerry told the boys, waving behind her as she left.

"Hey, Caboose?" Donut asked. "Wanna go do something? Just the two of us?"

"Okay!" the older boy quickly replied, jealousy forgotten.

XXX

Grif scanned the crowded room. He had blinked, and _the-very-drunk-_Simmons had disappeared. It was like magic, and it fucking pissed. Him. Off.

There, a flash of perfectly-in-place black hair, startling green eyes, freckled face, and staggering gait; he had found Simmons. He rushed over to his boyfriend and grabbed him by the shoulders, staring down at him as if he were a naughty child.

"What the hell? Does booze give you super powers?" he asked.

"Oh, hiya, Dexty," Simmons replied simply.

"…Dexty? You really are shit-faced."

"I gotsh th' keysh," he told the bigger teen, dangling said objects in front of him triumphantly, like he'd defeated a fierce dragon and taken its hoard.

"Right. That's great. It wasn't' like I was fuckin' worried you'd go and do something stupid. Nope, not at fuckin' all," Grif griped, clenching his jaw. He then let out a heavy sigh, hanging his head in exasperation.

"C'n we go ta th' car, now?" Simmons asked hopefully, unaware of his boyfriend's concern and relief.

Grif, feeling that it'd be easier to keep an eye on him if they were alone together (and it had no reason whatsoever to do with the fact that he wouldn't mind making-out, just a little, with a drunk Simmons) answered, "Yeah, let's go."

The brunet led him outside and to Lopez's black Mercedes Benz. He opened the back door and ushered Simmons in, then crawled in next to him, closing the door. He turned to the other teen and opened his mouth to say something. He never got the chance to speak, however, as something covered his mouth sloppily.

Simmons' tongue haphazardly slipped its way past Grif's lips. He pushed the brunet, who was too taken by surprise to struggle, up against the side, getting atop him and straddling his waist. Slowly, Grif's hands grasped his waist while he gave a slight moan as Simmons' hands pushed up his shirt carelessly, just needing to feel the other teen.

He should stop this before things went any further…In a minute…A soon as one of them needed to breathe…

Simmons' fingers began to undo Grif's pants with slapdash movements. Deciding it was enough, he grabbed the smaller teen's hands and pushed him away. Simmons pouted while Grif ran a hand though his hair, sighing heavily. If only he wasn't drunk.

"Okay, maybe you should try and sleep," he suggested. Under his breath he added, "Then I'll have little urge to have drunk sex with you."

"Aww, but shex…" he whined.

Grif thought for a moment on how to make him happy sans sexual activities (why couldn't he be this way sober?). Then, with a small sound of "aha!" he pulled Simmons into his lap, where the other cuddled into his chest. Yawning, and obviously content, Simmons closed his eyes.

Grif put his mouth next to Simmons' ear and whispered, "You're beautiful." He kissed him on the temple, figuring the other boy was too drunk to remember the moment in the morning.

After a while his breathing became light as he fell asleep. Grif, arms wrapped around the smaller teen, smirked. He had better get some really good sex after finals, though.

XXX

"Hey, Doc, Church," Kerry greeted the two as she sat in between them. "Where's Tucker?"

"He ran off; hormones kicking in," Church answered, taking a drink of what was his third bottle of whiskey that night.

"Oh, okay."

After that the three teens started talking about the usual things: music, how the party was so far, how purple was really Doc's color, how cute both he and Church looked, and then somehow the conversation turned to Donut and Caboose.

"They'd make a cute couple," Doc commented. "What do you think, Church?" Addressed teen made a noncommittal sound mumbled into his bottle.

"Donut really likes him," Kerry told them. "Wouldn't it be great if they were soul mates?" Doc nodded in agreement while Church only scowled at the other side of the room where the cheerleader and Caboose were talking and laughing.

"Caboose seems really interested in Donut, too," Doc said. "He's being even friendlier then when he's with either you or Sheila, Church." Church grunted.

"I wonder if Caboose will make the first move or if Donut'll have to," Kerry mused. "Ooh! Did you see that? Caboose just gave Donut a kiss on the cheek!" she squealed. Church gritted his teeth.

"Wow. Maybe they'll go out, now. How fast," Doc commented. Church growled, sound low and feral. Donut and Caboose slipped off together.

"That'd be great. Then, maybe I could concentrate on _my_ relationship," Kerry hinted, turning to Doc. He stared at her blankly, clearly not understanding the message.

Church turned away from where the couple across the room had been and smirked at Doc, mouthing the words "she wants you". The other boy cocked his head slightly to the side in question. Kerry began talking about a movie she wanted to go see, asking Doc if he wanted to see it, too. Church again mouthed something to the other boy: "Ask her if she wants to go to the movies with you."

Doc, beginning to blush, looked at Church as if he'd ordered him to eat a newborn. He muttered to Kerry that, yes, the movie sounded interesting. Then, after taking a giant gulp, he asked her if…if…

"Yeah?" the girl prompted.

"If you'd, um, if you would…" Church looked at him with reassurance and Doc continued with newly found confidence. "Would you like to see it with me after finals next weekend?"

"Sure!" she readily replied. Church gave him the thumbs up sign and an at-least-someone's-getting-lucky smile.

Doc got up, using the excuse that he needed some water, and left the other two alone. Kerry turned to Church and gushed, "Oh, my god, did you hear that? We're going on a date! Hell yeah! It's about damn time. Oh, shit! What should I wear? What should I do? Should I make the first move or should he? Doc's so shy, though… what should I do, Church?"

The other teen blinked rapidly at the girl's rushed questions and exclamations. After making sense of her words he offered, "Doc's too much of a pansy to hit on you unless you do it first."

"Well, how should I do that?" Church thought for a minute.

"First, always walk really close to him; trust me when I say guys love that. Second, make sure your hands touch, a _lot," _he supplied. "Also, entwine your hands together like this." Church took her hands in his, enlacing their fingers together.

"He'll really like that?" Kerry asked.

"Yeah, he's that sensitive type of guy," Church replied, letting go of her hand. "Tucker's more of a bad-pick-up-line guy." To demonstrate, Church yawned, stretching an arm around Kerry and saying, "So, come here often?" They shared a laugh.

"So, what type of guy are you?" she asked.

"I'm more of a suave-type," he replied with a smug grin.

"No, really?" He glared down at the brunette before both of them started laughing inanely for some inexplicable reason.

XXX

Caboose took Donut to the basement, deciding that it was the only spot with no one else. He didn't realize that it was already occupied, however, by the only female football player he knew as she anxiously awaited for the full twenty-four hours to pass.

"Hi, Tex," Caboose greeted, waving madly at the girl. He was impervious to the glare she directed towards him. "This is Captain Muffins," he introduced. The blonde waved, not bothered at all by the extremely scary girl.

"I'm not even going to bother asking about that nickname. I seriously hope that's a nickname." She shook her head as if to clear it. "So anyway, why the hell are you two down here?"

"To get away from everyone else," Caboose answered. Before Tex could respond, a timer went off, causing her to jump up form where she had sat, cross-legged, on the floor eagerly. The look on her face was like that of a little child's on Christmas morning.

"Caboose, where the hell are Church and the others? It's time."

"They are upstairs somewhere," he offered.

"Wow, thanks. That was so helpful and precise, Caboose," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm that the boy didn't quite grasp. She ran up the stairs, deciding that she could quickly find them all. Donut turned to Caboose.

"What was that all about?" he asked.

"Oh, we are going to do some ritual to get O'Malley out of Tex," he replied simply.

"O'Malley?"

"The ghost living inside of Tex," Caboose explained. The cheerleader just nodded, seeming unperturbed by the knowledge.

"Hey, Caboose, wanna make out?"

"Wha-" Donut's mouth was on his before he could finish his sentence. He went along with the kiss, enjoying it a lot. Especially how the blonde was sucking on his bottom lip.

XXX

As Tex reached the top of the stairs, she saw that the majority of the people had gone off somewhere, probably to have sex in a random, secluded location. She spotted Church and some brunette, freckled girl gushing at Church on the couch. Suddenly, he took her hand and interlocked their fingers together. Her dark eyes narrowed as she clenched the railing roughly. Then, he yawned and stretched out his arms, draping one over the girl. The girl said something and they burst into a shared laughter. Tex started to growl as she stomped over to them.

Church, upon seeing her approaching and noticing her demeanor, greeted, "Hey, Tex. What's up?"

"What the fuck are you two doing?" she demanded.

"Kerry, this is my pissed off and moody girlfriend. Tex, this is Kerry, the girl I was doing _nothing _with," he introduced.

"Right," she said in a tone that clearly stated she didn't believe him in the least. "Where is everyone? It's time."

"I dunno. Caboose went somewhere-" He cringed internally.

"He's downstairs," she interjected.

"Well, Andy's who-knows-or-cares-where and Tucker left, probably to go attempt to get laid."

"Well, that's just great. Where the hell is Sheila?"

"Oh, she's off with Lopez," Kerry told her.

"No one asked you, bitch," Tex snarled. Kerry didn't even flinch, just infuriating Tex even more.

Doc chose that moment to come back, humming a small tune and grinning madly. He greeted Tex, not bothered as she growled at him. Tex grew even angrier.

"So, what are you doing, Tex?"

"Have you seen Tucker, Sheila, or Andy?" she questioned hopefully. He answered in the negative. "Well, goddamn it. Hey, you sons of bitches!" she yelled out with no response. She growled and, pressed for time, decided, "Okay, you two will do. Let's go."

"Where're we going?" Kerry asked.

"Shut up and follow me, you fucking whore," she replied. All three wisely did as suggested.

XXX

"No, Andy, I don't fuckin' like Church!" Tucker exclaimed, pounding a fist against the table.

"Yeah, right," the younger teen said with a roll of his eyes. He took a sip of his drink, not perturbed in the least by Tucker's I-hope-you-fuckin'-die-you-asshole glare.

Before the darker boy could deny what _everyone_ seemed to think was true, Sheila and Lopez wandered into the kitchen. They seemed shocked to find anyone else there. Quickly, they distanced themselves an arm's length away, looking all around save for at each other or the other two teens.

"Oh, um, we didn't know you two were in here," Sheila mumbled, blushing furiously. Tucker and Andy grinned at the girl.

"Damn, you're hooking up with someone and we aren't?" Tucker asked incredulously.

"Fuck, we're the only two without anyone," Andy griped.

"It's not like that!" Lopez and Sheila hurriedly denied.

Tucker and Andy never got to say otherwise as, suddenly, Tex's angry yelling could be heard. Sheila opened her mouth to respond as she turned around, but was stopped by Andy.

"No," he whispered to her. "Just ignore her."

"Yeah, don't let her know where we're at. I really don't want to face Church right now," Tucker said just as softly.

"That's because you like him," Andy snickered.

"Fuck no!" he hissed, voice low.

As the two boys argued in low, hushed sounds, Lopez and Sheila shared a similar look. Communicating silently, the walked through the other door, leading them to the backyard. They smiled at each other before gazing up at the beautiful winter night sky. Snowflakes were trickling down and they subconsciously stood closer for warmth.

XXX

"Okay, everyone stand around the circle," Tex instructed. She glared at the order: Caboose was next to Donut, Doc was next to that _whore, _and Church was in-between the blonde and brunette. Tex reluctantly, though not quite defeated, had to stand next to Doc and Caboose.

The girl took out a black sharpie and took Doc's hand, writing the symbol perfectly on him. Then, she took that little _whore_'s hand, drawing a slipshod symbol on her arm. Capping the sharpie and pocketing it, she stood back in place.

"Okay, everyone needs to take a deep breath and stay still," she instructed. They did as told. "Now, hold hands." Again, they obeyed. She tried to ignore how Church was holding that little fucking _whore_'s hand.

Tex started to chant in an indecipherable language. The chalk-circle started to glow a brilliant white light. Everyone save Tex stared at it in disbelief and awe; as best they could stare, their eyes having to squint against the harsh glare.

Suddenly, a screaming filled the room and a pale spirit-like thing seemed to be pulled from Tex's head. Her face was starting to contort in pain, though still she kept on chanting. O'Malley, for that was what-or, rather, who the spirit was, was pulled into the light, swirling around it like a tornado. Then, abruptly, the brightest flash of light yet blinded them all momentarily.

Then it all vanished and, slowly, everyone blinked the spots in front of their eyes away. Letting go of each other's hands, they all stared at Tex curiously. The girl was grinning broadly, and somewhat sadistically. She turned to everyone and spoke.

"He's out."

XXX

Lopez looked at his watched and jumped up from the back stoop, amazed at the time; it was already nearing one o'clock in the morning. He looked down at Sheila apologetically.

"Sorry, I must go."

"I hope we can see each other again," she said. He nodded, hands increasingly sweaty, before turning and going back into the house.

Andy and Tucker were in a heated debate over the latter's sexuality so Lopez didn't bother giving them a goodbye. As he entered the living room, Kerry, Donut, and four others came up from the basement. The blonde, seeing him first, waved him over.

"Hey, Lopez! How's Sheila?" he asked suggestively. The Mexican teen glared at him.

"Where are the dumb one and my brother?" he asked.

"Dunno. Probably your car," Kerry replied. Lopez quickly checked his pockets for the keys; he didn't find them. Cursing under his breath, he turned towards the front door.

"Wait, did you see an annoying freshman and black asshole anywhere?" Tex questioned.

"Kitchen," he replied, storming outside as the girl stormed into the other room.

"We've got to go know," Donut said to Caboose. "See you later. Maybe we can finish what they interrupted," he mused with a wink, referring to when everyone came downstairs as they were making-out.

"Goodbye, Muffins," Caboose said, grinning lopsidedly. "That would be nice."

"See you later," Kerry said to Doc, winking at him. His knees buckled slightly as he mumbled a goodbye. She gave him a slight hug before going to Church and throwing her arms around him. "Thanks for the advice, suave-type." He chuckled, pushing her off him gently.

"See you guys," he said.

Donut, after giving Caboose a big hug, went and squeezed Church tightly. With an "oof" he mumbled about how touchy-feely they were. He blamed the redness in his face on the lack of air.

Suddenly, they heard yelling from the kitchen and a crash. Deciding that was their cue, the cousins followed Lopez out the door. They went to Lopez's car, Kerry getting in front while Donut crawled into the back besides Grif and a sleeping Simmons. Donut looked from the fuming Mexican in the driver's seat to Grif.

"What's with him?" he asked, pointing to the freckled teen in his cousin's lap.

"Got drunk. Fell asleep," he replied simply.

Lopez started the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was relatively silent as he first dropped off Grif, Kerry and Donut. (The eldest gently laid the still-peacefully-sleeping Simmons down across the backseat, glaring at his cousin and sister as they voiced how cute of a couple they were.)

When he pulled into his own driveway, he was relieved to find that Sarge was not yet home. Parking and turning off the ignition, Lopez got into the backseat and shook his brother awake.

"Wha'?" he mumbled groggily; the whiskey was still in his system, making comprehension difficult.

Lopez helped his Simmons out of the car and into the house. He was basically using the older teen as a crutch, not able to stand, let alone walk, on his own that well. Lopez hoped to get Simmons to bed before their father arrived, then feign sleep himself. He assumed Sarge wouldn't appreciate him letting the younger teen get drunk.

At that precise moment, the front door opened again, causing Lopez to become startled and run into a kitchen chair. Cursing, they turned to see their father walking in._ Madre de Dios…_

"Hey, boys, I'm…home…" Sarge said, closing the door behind him. He looked at his two sons. "What in Sam's hell is going on in here?" he demanded.

"Uh…" Lopez honestly couldn't think of a good excuse, so he staid silent. Simmons, however, didn't, much to his absolute horror.

"Hiya, Sharge!" Simmons greeted, waving insanely. The older man stared disbelievingly at his youngest.

"Simmons, are you _drunk_?"

"No, I c'n hold my lick-sure," he slurred. Lopez groaned, cursing his brother's novio.

"Boys, I'm gone two days and this happens?" He was appalled. Lopez sat Simmons down in a chair, the run he had ran into earlier, and stood at attention, hoping that would help in the slightest, misplaced hopes that they were.

"I am amazed that ya-" Sarge began, before being interrupted.

"Sarge, am I pretty?" Simmons asked, his slur lessening.

"What?"

"Grif said I was beautiful. Ish tha' true?" he asked, demeanor sobering.

"Uh, Simmons, why don't ya go up stairs an' sleep it off?" Sarge suggested, not sure how to answer his son's question.

"Okay," he replied, bounding up the stairs. Sarge set his stone gaze on his Lopez. The boy visibly gulped.

"It could always have been worse," he tried with small, nervous laughter. "You could have seen Simmons and the dumb one together." Sarge said nothing and Lopez shut his mouth fast. Clearing his throat he said, "I'll be in my room."

Sarge watched his son escape up the stairs. This was definitely not what he needed to come home to, especially after what he had had to put up with the past couple of days. That woman wasn't right, though; he'd raised the boys well. They were just doing what all normal teenagers did. And he had no problem with Simmons being gay…

Sarge let out a long, heavy sigh before going up the stairs himself and retiring to bed.


	9. Chapter 8 Waking Up is a Hard Thing to D

**A/N: **Monday is my birthday. I think I should be more elated. Ah, well. At least I get stuff. So far my parents have gotten me a new stereo (no more Hello Kitty!), a new lamp that looks positively awesome (light in my room! Yeah, my fan light got…broken…), an entertainment system that isn't falling to pieces, a couple of new books, my hair got dyed (violet red! It looks kick ass), X-Men Evolution Season 1 DVD, and two RvB shirts: "That's right, I'm a gay robot" and "I'm scared of myself". Totally. Fucking. Awesome. However, next Sunday's update might be a bit late on account of I have to take everything out of my room and rearrange it. But we'll see. I'll still be using up all my school time to write. And they think I'm a good student. XD  
And now, on to the show! Oh, by the way, there is going to be more Lopez and Sheila action in later chapters. And advancements in everyone else's relationships, too.  
Oh, and if any of you are religious, happy Easter.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there's Grif/Simmons in abundance, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc and slight one-sided Kerry/Tucker. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Cursing in abundance, slash, het, mentions of sex, morning afters, hangovers, games, confrontations, malls, power drills, waking up, phone conversations, IM, screen names, blackmail, pain, nervousness, hidden meanings, unsurity (not a real word!), lack of remembering the night before, Oreo pancakes, meditation, nerves, butterflies, laughter, cheating, guilt, clearing things up, cooing, not admitting defeat, and the usage of first names.

Chapter 8  
Waking Up is a Hard Thing to Do  
Or  
These You/I/We-Did-What! Moments

Simmons awoke with a groan; his head was pounding in an inane rhythm and his throat was burning and sore. Curling up in his blankets, the previous night flashed in his mind. He remembered drinking the Jack Daniels, but the rest was a blank.

The dark haired boy quickly shot up in bed; a bad move as he was over come with a wave of nausea. Clutching his head with both hands, he swallowed back down the vomit that threatened to rise. When the feeling had passed, Simmons looked around his floor. Spotting his cellphone, he crawled out of bed and to it. He picked it up and speed dialed Grif's number. He put the phone to his ear, cringing at the loud rings. On the fourth one, Grif answered.

"'Lo?"

"What. The. Fuck. Happened last night?" Simmons growled.

"You got drunk," Grif replied casually. Simmons' eyes clenched shut as he tried to stifle the ramming pain in his head.

"What else?" he demanded accusingly.

"That's it, basically. I mean, you _really _wanted to fuck me, but you ended up falling asleep before ravishing me," Grif told him with a snort.

"That's it? Wait, where'd I fall asleep at?"

"Lopez's car." He left out the part about his lap. "You stole his keys."

"Holy shit, did I? I can't remember _anything_," Simmons groaned.

"Hey, man, don't worry," Grif said sympathetically. "Happens to everyone."

"Not to me! What if Sarge…" A scene from last night popped into his mind: his father walking in the front door. "Oh. My. God."

"What?"

"Sarge came home last night. He saw me drunk! Oh, holy fucking _hell_," Simmons moaned, putting his throbbing head between his knees and closing his green eyes as if it would make the horrible realization go away.

"What happened?" Grif asked, feeling guilty for tricking him into drinking the whiskey in the first place.

"Oh, god. I…I can't remember," he groaned for what seemed the umpteenth time in the past five minutes.

"Listen, Dick, don't worry. It's Sarge; it's not like he's gonna disown you just because you got drunk," Grif assured. "Now, just take a deep breath and calm down." Simmons obeyed. "There. Feel better?"

"A little bit, the other boy admitted, voice a mumble. "Thanks."

A minute passed in relative silence; Simmons used it to fully regain his composure while Grif mentally cursed and kicked himself. Finally, the smaller teen spoke again.

"I need to go talk to Sarge. See you later, Dex," Simmons told him soberly (oh, the fucking irony).

"Okay. Later, Dick. Good luck."

"Thanks. Oh, and Grif?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't think this means you won." Grif smirked, and they hung up.

XXX

Church opened his eyes slowly. He then groggily rubbed the sleep from them, grumbling to himself about how damn bright lights shouldn't be in this his face early in the morning. He looked at the alarm clock next to the bed, one he never remembered owning, learning that it was actually after noon.

"Sunuvabitch," he griped. Next to him, a body stirred.

"'Swrong?" a voice next to him yawned.

"Already after twelve," he replied, turning around. "Sorry if I woke you up," he apologized, too tired yet to be his usual, non-caring self.

"'S fine," was the mumbled response.

Church looked at the waking teen next to him, admiring the smooth skin that was revealed as the black body shifted to rub his eyes much as he had earlier. Church didn't know the reason why, whether it was because he'd gotten little sleep the previous night or if he was still a bit drunk, but Tucker looked…Damn, for a lack of a better word, he looked beautiful…

Tucker…

Simultaneously, the two boys looked at each other's bare forms incredulously. They stared like that for a full minute, neither one quite sure of just what the hell had transpired early that morning. Finally, the smaller teen remembered how to speak.

"Did we…?"

"We're both naked…"

"We couldn't have…"

"I can see your _cock_."

"Oh, my _fuckin'_ god. We had sex last night," Church realized.

"…Wanna go back to sleep and deal with this later?" Tucker suggested, hopeful for a chance to put off the inevitable, even if it was for only a few hours.

"Oddly enough, that sounds like a really good idea, Tucker."

As it was decided, the boys snuggled back under the warm covers and closed their eyes. After a bit of comfortable silence caused by denial, Church asked, "So, you know I was probably top, right?"

"Prolly, ya commanding whore," he mumbled. They shared a laugh before both fell back asleep.

XXX

Simmons went into the hallway, silently closing his door behind him. With light footfalls, he walked down the looming hallway. He paused as Lopez came out of his room.

"Hey, I was just wondering-"

"Pendejo," Lopez interjected, slamming the door shut in the younger boy's face.

"…Nice talking to you, too, cockbite," he grumbled under his breath. Shaking his head, he continued walking, descending the stairs.

Simmons didn't see his father in the living room nor kitchen; he assumed Sarge was in his workshop, then, and was proved correct as the sound of a power drill could be heard. The dark haired teen gulped as he gathered his courage. He walked outside and to the side door leading into the workshop. He tentatively knocked, though he knew it couldn't be heard over the clanking and sawing and other loud noises emitting from behind the door.

After a minute, and several deep breaths plus a mini pep talk, Simmons banged harder on the door; this time he was heard. The door swung open, revealing his father: graying dark brown hair sticking to his forehead from sweat, teeth gritted into an angry scowl, eyes stony. Simmons visibly gulped.

"Uh, h-hello, sir. I, um, just wanted…to talk with you. Um…" he mumbled in a slight stutter, eyes downcast in shame.

"Boy," Sarge said, the sound of his voice making the teenager jump. "Yer ou'side without a coat. Are ya tryin' ta catch cold?"

"Uh, um, I…" Simmons congratulated himself on his complete and utter lack of nerves.

"Come on inside."

He took a deep breath then said, "O-okay."

Sarge side-stepped out of the way so Simmons could enter. he shut the door behind the boy and went over to his worktable. Tentatively, the teen followed him.

"I, uh, just…just wanted to say-" Simmons began.

"Hand me th' wench ovah there," Sarge's gruff voice interrupted.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure," he mumbled, handing him said wench. He than tried again after another deep breath. "A-about last night…I, um…I just…"

"Hand me tha' hammer ovah there," Sarge ordered as he set the unused wench down, again interrupting his son.

"Er, right." Simmons went over to where Sarge pointed, coming back with the desired hammer. He took it, not looking up from whatever he was making. With a small word of thanks, he started hammering.

"So, um, about last night…" Simmons cleared his throat before continuing, louder this time so he could be heard over the loud banging. "I, I just wanted to say…"

Sarge seemed to hit the hammer harder against the wood. Simmons gave up trying to speak, opting instead to sit on a stool and watch his father work. With every band of hammer to wood, he cringed; the sound was only intensifying his headache.

About ten minutes passed before Sarge's hand stilled. He glanced sideways at his son, taking notice of his pain.

"Why don'tcha go on back in th' house if th' sound hurts yer ears?" he asked, voice softer than normal. Simmons shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm fine." Sarge went back to hammering while Simmons watched, headache a dull throb.

XXX

After hanging up with Simmons, Grif had thrown his head back on his pillow, eyes closed as the guilty feeling wouldn't go away. Next time, he was going to take the other teen's advice and start thinking before he acted. Not that he'd act on _those_ thoughts. Or even think about the consequences. Or care.

Suddenly, there was a knocking on his door. Then, his cousin's all-too-cheerful voice rang through the room. "Hey, Grif! I made pancakes."

Enticed by the offer as he was, he still only grunted in reply. He jumped up, however, with Donut's next words.

"I made a stack with Oreos in the batter for you."

Grif ripped open the door and glared at Donut. "Don't play on my weaknesses, bitch." The blonde simply grinned widely at him. With a huff, he started down the stairs, the blonde at his heels.

"Morning, Grif," Kerry greeted pleasantly, smile on her freckled face, as her brother sat down at the table. She laid a stack of the promised Oreo pancakes down in front of him.

"Mornin', sis. Why the hell are you both so cheery?" He took his fork and stabbed it into the pancakes. Tearing some off, he hungrily shoved it into his mouth.

"Doc'n me are going to the movies next Saturday!" Kerry announced giddily. "It'll be our first date."

Grif literally choked on his Oreo pancakes. The fork fell to the table as his hands frantically grabbed his neck. He started choking and sputtering; that's when the other two teens decided to do something…Which was helpfully handing him a glass of water. Grif took a long drink, and soon he was able to breathe again.

"Thanks…for…the help," he snarked spitefully, glaring at his sibling and cousin.

"Welcome," they chimed in unison.

"It probably would have helped if you didn't smoke; then your lungs could be healthier and you could hold your breath for longer," the blonde pointed out.

"Asshole…That's it, someone go find me an Indian pipe."

Grif took a deep breath, another sip of water, blinked furiously, then spoke again.

"The fuck? Who said you could go on a date?"

"Myself," Kerry replied stubbornly. "Stop babying me, jackass."

"Kerry-"

"At least Doc's really hot," Donut mused. Kerry nodded enthusiastically while Grif stared, mortified, at him.

"You know what?" he finally said. "I don't care. You two do what you want, who you want, when you want. I quit." Grif stood up and left the room. Kerry and Donut exchanged a similar look.

"About time, goddamn," the girl commented.

Grif came back into the kitchen, sitting down at the table. He picked up his fork, again tearing into the Oreo pancakes. He glared at their humorous looks saying, "What? I'm still fuckin' hungry." He shoved the food into his mouth, ignoring the younger teens' matching grins.

XXX

Church nudged the slightly younger teen. Tucker shifted slightly, mumbling, "Leggo my num-nums…" Church blinked down at him as he started to wake up.

"Okay, I'm not even gonna ask, man."

"Mm. Wha's tha'?" Tucker mumbled, rubbing his dark eyes. Church shook his head.

"Let's leave it a mystery."

The two boys just laid there for a minute, neither moving nor speaking. Then, Church decided to break the cozy silence.

"Should probably get dressed," he said, getting out of Tucker's bed. The darker boy did the same.

As they searched around the room for their clothing, Tucker asked, "So, how the hell'd we end up at my place? Last think I remember was Tex comin' into the kitchen and kickin' mine and Andy's asses."

"Yeah. Then I recall saying I was going to take you home…Then Doc drove us both over here because I had over three Jack Daniels..." Church informed.

"Mm."

They continued searching for their clothes in silence. Tucker's shirt and one sock were under his bed next to both of Church's shoes, the older boy's shirt was on the ceiling fan, Tucker's underwear and his other sock were in a corner, and his pants were tangled around Church's pale blue boxers. As they both began getting dressed, Church putting on his shirt and Tucker going commando with his legs in his pants first, paused and looked at each other.

"Doc drove us here…" the smaller teen mumbled.

"Holy fuck, he knows!" the dark skinned boy exclaimed.

"We…It's okay. We just need to tell Doc nothing happened and he'd better keep his mouth shut," Church assured shakily.

"Right."

Both boys finished getting dressed, then Tucker went into the kitchen. He found a note from his mother saying that she had gone out with a few friends and would probably be back the following day. It went on to say that he'd die if he broke anything or used her car. He simply crumpled the note, tossing it to the side as Church came in.

"Let's go drop by Doc's, then, um, I guess I'll drive you home," Tucker mumbled, not looking at the smaller boy.

Ignoring what the letter had specifically advised against doing, he took the keys from the counter where his mother had unceremoniously left them. Church followed him out the door and to the run down pick-up truck he couldn't help but be amazed still ran.

He crawled into the passenger seat while Tucker took the wheel. The younger boy inserted the keys into the ignition, turning them. It revved, then died. He attempted this about four more times before it finally started up. He pulled out of the driveway and took a left.

The drive was silent; Church stared out the window and tapped his fingers impatiently against the door handle, though instead of watching the scenery go by like a quick slideshow he gazed at Tucker's reflection in the window, while Tucker kept his eyes straight ahead, except for about three-fourths of the trip where he glanced at Church out of the corner of his eyes. Much to their relief, they finally arrived at Doc's whitewash house.

Getting out of the car as soon as it stopped with an unnerving rattle, Church went up to the front door. He knocked as Tucker joined him. The dark skinned boy gulped as Church adopted his usual, hate filled, everyone-is-a-moron scowl. Something told him things weren't going to end well; then again, Lady Luck did not fancy the teen, so the possibilities were endlessly bad, Church was pretty sure.

XXX

Doc "hmmed", his eyes closed, hands palm up with thumb and pointer finger touching, and legs crossed. He sat on the floor, doing his daily meditation. Doc had finished his morning yoga about an hour ago and, after meditation, he was going to call Kerry. Eventually. When his nerves weren't so numb and the butterflies flew out of his stomach.

Suddenly, a banging on the door disrupted his actions. He glared at the offending door for a split second before taking a deep, calming breath; it was never good nor healthy to get angry.

The pacifist got up and answered the door. The scowling face of Church and Tucker shifting from foot-to-foot nervously greeted him.

"Oh, hello, guys," Doc said, moving to allow them entrance. Church came in first, followed by Tucker.

"Okay, Doc, we need to talk," Church began.

"Oh, sure. But first, may I ask who won?" The other two stared blankly at him.

"What?" Tucker asked at last.

"You know, the video game you two were going to play. That is why you staid over at Tucker's, isn't it?"

"Oh, uh right. The game…" church mumbled unconvincingly. Luckily, Doc wasn't the suspicious type.

The two shared a look and in unison answered, "Tie."

"Oh, okay. So, what did you guys need to ask me?"

"Uh, that's not really important…" Church trailed off.

"Yeah, I, um, kinda forgot? Yeah…" Tucker added, equally weak.

"Oh, okay. If you two are sure," Doc said.

"Yeah. Well, um, we've got to, uh…"

"Go. We've got to go, um…" Church interjected.

"Do something," Tucker finished. "Well, see ya, Doc."

"Yeah, bye."

"See you guys later," Doc said, seeing them to the door. He closed it behind them and went back to his meditation. The butterflies were almost gone.

XXX

The ride to Church's house was filled with more noise. As an added bonus, said noise was not just the care sputtering like a dying man's last attempts at life, nor Church's drumming of fingers on the door, nor even Tucker's tight gripping of the wheel and forceful pressing of sticking pedals.

"So, we played a video game," Church commented.

"And then we fucked? What the hell? Aren't you getting any from Tex?" Tucker asked.

"Our clothes might have just ended up coming off…somehow…for no real reason. We could have been really hot. And no, not really," Church replied.

"That's a really good reason for our clothes to come off. You know, minus the fact that it's winter and my house is fuckin' freezin'. Not as much as this damn piece of shit, though," he growled, hitting the dashboard. "If we got really hot, it's 'cause we decided to play the virtual game 'Hide the Dick'…Bow chicka bow wow."

"Whatever. It really doesn't matter what happened, just that no one finds out about this," Church said.

"Yeah. It'd really suck since Tex could _easily_ kick both our asses," Tucker agreed. "Hey! I just realized something; this is the first time in your guys' relationship where _you're_ the one who cheated."

"Wow, Tucker. Thanks for that great observation," Church congratulated dryly.

"Heh. Man, your girlfriend's hot, but she fuckin' sucks. And not just in bed. Bow chicka bow wow.

"Tucker!" the other teen exclaimed, glaring at the taller boy. He only laughed harder.

Thankfully, because Church couldn't take it anymore, Tucker pulled into his driveway, He got out of the falling-apart truck, giving Tucker a half-wave as he opened the unlocked front door and went inside.

Tucker sat there for a minute, mind going at a breakneck speed. A minute later when he pulled out again, however, he had no idea what he had been thinking about.

XXX

Kerry picked up the bottle of what Donut had told her was yellow nail polish. She unscrewed the cap and put the first layer on her pig toe. Before she could move to her other toes, however, her cellphone rang; it was the ringtone she had set for Donut.

She picked up and greeted, "Hey, cuz. He on?" Donut had received Caboose's IM screen name at the party, and had been online for a little over an hour waiting to talk to him.

"He's on!" Donut confirmed with a squeal.

"That's awesome! I wanna come in and see your conversation," Kerry told him. "Unless you guys are gonna cyber."

"Kerry! We're not gonna cyber…yet."

"Jus' kidding. But that'd be hot. I'll be there in a sec."

Kerry hung up and put the phone in the pocked of her purple shorts. She gathered up her nail polish and walked down the hallway to her uncle's study; her gait was awkward as she tried not to mess up the cotton balls between her toes. The girl opened the door and walked over to where her cousin sat at the computer.

"Hi, Ker," the blonde greeted without looking up from the screen. The girl leaned over his scrawny shoulder to read the conversation so far.

**teamkillingfucktard:** hi, muffins!!!1!  
** PinkFrosting:** hi Caboose!  
** PinkFrosting: **wats up?  
** teamkillingfucktard:** nuthin much u?  
** PinkFrosting:** just talking 2 u

"What's with his name?" Kerry asked.

"Don't know. I'll ask." Donut started typing, then pressed enter, his comment appearing on screen.

**PinkFrosting: **wats wit the name??  
** teamkillingfucktard:** tuker changd it cus i killd church on a video game wen we wer on the same team.  
** teamkillingfucktard: **a lot.  
** PinkFrosting: **oh, ok. That's coo. ;)

"You winked at him?"

"Shut up."

Before Kerry could taunt the blonde any further, her phone rang. Putting down the nail polish, she checked the caller ID, letting out an excited squeal of joy when she saw who it was: Doc. Flipping the phone open she said, "Hey, Doc."

"Uh, h-hello, Kerry…"

"What's up?" the girl asked, sticking up her middle finger at Donut as the boy puckered up his lips while making kissy-kissy sounds.

"Oh, um, nothing…much…"

"That's cool." Kerry peered at the computer screen, a fourth of her concentration focusing on the virtual conversation while the rest was purely on Doc.

"So, how are you doing, Kerry?" he asked back.

"I'm okay. Donut's chatting with Caboose on IM," she told him.

"That's great! They're really hitting it off, aren't they?" he mused.

"Mhm." Both teens were silent after that. Doc gulped and wished Church was still there to give him advice.

**teamkillingfucktard:** we shuld go sum where 2gether this weekend  
** PinkFrosting:** sounds fun. :) Where?  
** teamkillingfucktard:** ooh! How a bout u cume over 2 my house n we can play video games? Or have a tea party?  
** PinkFrosting:** that sounds awesome Caboose. I'll totally b there.

"Aww, that's so cute," Kerry cooed. Donut stuck his tongue out at the brunette.

"What is?" Doc questioned.

"Oh, Caboose just asked Donut over to his house next week," she informed.

"Wow, those two sure are moving fast…" Doc repeated with a nervous chuckle.

"Yup," the girl agreed. "They've already made out."

"Really? Oh, um, wow…"

"Mhm. Some relationships just move really fast," she told him. "Especially if Donut's in them."

The blonde mouthed the words "screw you" to her. She whispered back "can't, you're gay."

"And other relationships are slow. Really slow," Doc added.

"Some relationships _shouldn't_ be that slow," the girl commented.

"Well, I guess some people are just too shy to move things along…"

"It's a good thing I don't let things get too slow, then," Kerry said.

**teamkillingfucktard:** hav 2 go now. By by muffins.  
** PinkFrosting:** see ya Saturday, Caboose

Donut logged off and swiveled around in the computer chair. A big grin was plastered across his face as he watched his cousin finish up her conversation with Doc.

"Sorry, Kerry, I have to go," the teen told her, reluctant to end the conversation yet reluctant to stay on.

"See you later, Doc." They hung up simultaneously and Kerry matched her cousin's grin.

"You're going to the _movies_."

"You're going to his _house_."

"Making out in the dark surrounded by random strangers."

"Wild hot sex on his bed, floor, in the kitchen, and maybe getting caught by his parents."

In unison they exclaimed, "Hell yeah!"

XXX

Grif, form his position flopped face-up on the couch, groaned; not only was he still feeling guilty from getting his boyfriend drunk and caught by Sarge, but also he was powerless to stop Kerry from , essentially, growing up. His arm, flung over his eyes, reached down to his pocket as it started to vibrate. He took out his cellphone and flipped it open. Bringing it to his left ear he asked, "Hello?"

"Hey, Dex. Mind picking me up?" Simmons' voice came from the other line.

"What?" Grif asked stupidly.

"Let me rephrase that; come and get me, Grif," the other boy ordered.

"What's up with Sarge?" he asked, sitting up.

"We really didn't talk about it. Everything's fine, though. I think. He got a phone call not too long ago, and it put him in a really bad mood. He…he actually suggested I go over to your place," Simmons told him, disbelieving his own words.

"Oh, god. I knew it."

"What?"

"Sarge is the Zombie King and he's gonna raise his undead army," Grif replied matter-of-factly. There was silence at Simmons' end. After along pause, he finally responded.

"Grif, that is positively the _stupidest_, the most moronic thing I have _ever_ heard you say."

"I should get a trophy."

"…Just come pick me up."

"Demanding, aren't you. Fine, I'll be there in a couple of minutes. I will speed," the brunet vowed, as though he were a knight and Simmons a damsel-in-distress. "And I won't stop, no matter what any sign tells me, or whatever color the light is, nor will I pull over for the cops."

"Just get your ass over here," the boy replied, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Right away."

They hung up and Grif went to his room to grab his keys. Glaring at the noise Donut and Kerry were making in his uncle's study, he went downstairs and out the door to his car, grabbing his brown jacket on his way. He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, wondering if Simmons still had a hangover.

Grif pulled into Simmons' driveway. Spotting the smaller boy sitting on the stoop. The dark haired teen came over and crawled into the passenger seat with a simple "Thanks".

"No problem," the brunet told him, pulling back out. "So, how's your head?"

"Throbbing slightly. But I'm fine," Simmons replied, hand subconsciously going up to his temple. Grif glanced at him from the corner of his eye but didn't say anything.

They arrived back at Grif's. Turning off the ignition, both boys got out of the car and went inside. Simmons shook his head to get the snowflakes off of his hair; sometime during the short drive it had started to snow, though neither had realized it.

"So," Grif asked, removing his jacket and hanging it up on the coat rack. "Whatcha want to do?" _Please say sex, please say sex, please say-_

"Besides study?" Simmons replied, taking off his maroon and black stripped scarf.

"Yeah, besides that," the brunet said dryly.

"Video games?" Simmons suggested as he took off his coat and hung it up next to Grif's.

"Sure," he agreed. "I love virtually kicking your ass."

"Oh, I'd like to see you try, bitch," Simmons said with a cocky smirk.

"Ten minutes is all I need," Grif promised, both boys running up the stairs and to his room.

XXX

Kerry threw the yellow (by what the tag said) tank top down to the ground in disgust. She grabbed another shirt from her closet, a light pink short-sleeved baby doll shirt with magenta roses going across the front diagonally. She contemplated it for a few seconds before it met the same fat as the other shirt.

The brunette made a sound of impatient frustration, pulling out yet another shirt, his one white with a gray kitten sporting a big red bow tied around its neck batting a blue yearn ball. It, too, fell to the floor in disdain.

The girl took no notice as the door opened and Donut walked in. the blonde looked at the mess of clothes strewn around the floor as he side stepped over everything to get to Kerry's bed. He sat down on the edge and addressed the girl.

"Found anything good to wear Saturday?"

"Ugh. No. damn it, I don't have that perfect outfit. You?" The blonde shook his pg-tailed head no.

"Uh-uh. I saw when we went to the mall the other day these cute pants that'd be perfect. They're a light pink with darker pink and white hearts on them," he told her.

"We should get Grif to take us," Kerry suggested, letting a light blue shirt with a yellow duckling on the front fall down in the pile closest to her.

"Ooh, good idea," he agreed.

They both left the room, careful not to step on anything, and made their way down the hallway to the older boys' room, pausing at the door. They knocked, knowing Simmons was in there and not wanting to _interrupt_ anything. (Because they knew the two boyfriends were as hormonal as rabbits in heat who've downed a whole bottle of Viagra.)

"What?" came the response form Grif, seemingly distracted.

"Can we come in or are you guys naked?" Donut asked. There was a growl and a muffled, "Fucking kill him."

"Make it quick; we're busy," the brunet answered.

Kerry and donut opened the door, revealing the two boys on the floor, eyes glued to the television screen and fingers furiously pressing buttons on their controllers as if stopping or slowing would mean disaster. Neither looked up as they entered.

"Whadya want?" Grif asked.

"Take us to the mall, please," Donut requested.

"No."

"Why not?" Kerry whined.

"Dude, we just went Tuesday. Not going again," he said in his end-of-discussion voice.

"Hey, Grif, remember last summer when you had been drinking and we started talking? Remember how you said-" Before the blonde could finish his sly blackmailing, Grif sprung up and turned to the younger teen.

"Okay, let's go to the mall!" he announced.

"Thanks, bro!"

"Yeah, thanks, Griffy," Donut said with a grin. They turned and bounced out of the room triumphantly.

"What the hell?" Simmons asked, looking up with raised eyebrow at his boyfriend.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he replied, looking away from Simmons. He followed his cousin and sister.

Simmons got up as well, making sure to pause their game. Not before first landing a powerful attack on Grif's character, of course.

XXX

"So, what is the blackmail on my brother?" Kerry asked.

The group had split up into two smaller groups and Kerry and Donut were making their way to a new store that had opened up about a month ago. That was where the blonde had seen the pink and hearted jeans.

Donut leaned in and whispered something in his cousin's ear. The girl burst into laughter as he pulled away, grinning broadly.

"Good, huh?"

"Awesome," she agreed. "That big softie."

Suddenly, her hand flew to her head. It was literally throbbing and she thought she might burst. Her honey colored eyes clenched shut and she gritted her teeth subconsciously.

"Kerry, what's wrong?" Donut asked in concern, his voice coming through as a whisper. A minute passed before she could answer.

"I…I'm fine…" she gulped down the wave of nausea that threatened to overtake her. "Just…hurts…"

"Here, sit down," Donut suggested, leading her over to the one of the conveniently nearby water fountains they had all over the mall. He sat her down on the ledge, rubbing the girl's back. She didn't realize what he did, however. All Kerry could focus on was the growing, _grating_ laugher in her mind.


	10. Chapter 9 HoneyLike Moments, Some More

**A/N: **It's been a while, huh? Well, been a hectic few weeks. I've been rushing to finish homework projects I half-assed in the end, organizing (which I suck at) my room, coming out to my parents again, refusing to work with me, having my stuff taken by security because there was some anonymous tip that I was the one who left a threatening note in the bathroom…Yeah, it's been exciting. I got my stuff back, though, and I'm not a suspect anymore. Which is good. Well, on to the chapter!  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there's Grif/Simmons, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Incest jokes, pumpkins, Halloween costumes, cursing, yelling, ghosts taking over bodies, pictures, reappearances, jealousy, conversations, eavesdropping on conversations, fluff, innuendos that come out of nowhere, awkwardness, more jealousy, Spanish, Spanglish, compliments, rants, mothers, fathers, the state of really, _really_ liking someone, comforting, lucky coincidences, yelling, slight cat (that just happens to look like mine) abuse, boy scouts, fake Mexican food, theories that sound crazy unless you were there but are true, heavy symbolism, cameras, and snapping photos of a couple in the middle of class.

Chapter 9  
Honey-Like Moments, Some More Sour than Sweet  
Or  
A Big Box of Photographs Can Go a Short Way

"Hey, sis. How you holdin' up?" Grif asked into the phone. He squinted his eyes against the sudden gust of chilling wind blowing hard towards him.

"Grif," the girl whined. "Stop calling me every five minutes. I'm fine."

"Really?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," Kerry reassured for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. "I can't rest with you checkin' up on me, so quit."

"Fine," he conceded with a sigh. He saw Simmons give him the sign to hang up and, a second later, the minute bell rang. "Gotta go. See you, sis. But call me as soon as you feel sicker, okay?" he quickly added.

"Promise." She hung up, and Grif reluctantly did the same. Together, he and Simmons walked hurriedly back into the school building and into their class just as the bell rang again.

"See, perfect timing, just like I planned," Grif gloated. Simmons glared at him. "Er, I mean, _you_ panned."

"Exactly."

"Good morning, boys. How's the head, Grif?" asked a very familiar voice. Simultaneously, the two teens looked over and spotted Lola Pillows. "Your teacher's not here, so take a seat wherever."

"Dude, it's the crazy blonde," Grif announced.

"Nice to see you remember me," Pillows said with a snort.

Simmons and Grif, matching smirks, sat down in two seats pushed together in the back. They noticed the strange arranging of the room: where usually there were three rows, now there were two separate rows pushed to either side of the room, and the two desks in the middle of the back in clear view of the front of the room.

"So, I'm, obviously, the sub. For the rest of the year. Your teacher, Mrs.… I'm actually not totally sure on her name, but she went into early labor."

"She was pregnant?" Grif interrupted. Everyone turned and looked at him unbelievingly.

"Yeah, for the past six months," Simmons finally answered.

"Oh…I really haven't paid attention in this class for a while."

"See why you need to study?"

"Sorry to disrupt the lover's spat, boys, but I'm gonna go on with my little introduction. Anyways, I'm Ms. Pillows. Just leave off the miss, I honestly don't care.

"Your teacher had the rest of this semester all planned out, but unfortunately I have to think of something for the rest of the year. I'm really glad this is an English class; at least I speak the language." From where she had been sitting in the desk chair, she now got up and walked around to the front of the desk. Casually, the young woman leaned against the edge, hands holding her steady.

"So, I guess I'll give you guys your project. And don't groan; the project's your final and it's easy. Tonight, you need to get al least ten pictures of your life, your loved ones, and your family. Yes, those can be separate." She clapped her hands and looked blankly at the group of teenagers. Then, as if just remembering something, she added, "I was told to bring some pictures of myself to share, too. And I have them. So, you can either look at my pictures-" she made it sound like a horrible punishment. "Or you can talk with each other," she made it sound _much_ better. "Your choice."

Everyone, sans Grif and Simmons who looked expectedly at her, immediately turned and started eagerly talking. The woman narrowed her eyes at the duo before picking up a nearby photo album and stomped over to them.

"Oh, you little bastards," she hissed, dropping the album down in the middle of the two desks. Have fun."

"We will," Grif assured, grinning up at her angry scowl as Simmons flipped open the book.

"Is that you as a baby?" the teen asked, pointing to a picture with a blonde baby in pink footsies pajamas with colorful swirl designs on it. She held the head of a Barbie doll as one would a shrunken head and she seemed to be glaring at the camera.

"Yup," she confirmed.

"How…cute?"

"Dude, you were seriously psychotic," Grif said.

"Hey, you'd mutilate a Barbie doll, too, if your parents kept buying all her stuff for you," she argued, giving a shudder.

"…How old were you in this picture?" Simmons asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

"I'unno. Seven months, eight."

"Right. That proves your sanity," Grif mumbled.

"Just shut up and hurry up lookin' at those," the woman ordered, kneeling in front of the desks, her elbows propped up on the surface and her chin in her palms.

Simmons turned a few pages coming up with pictures of all kinds. Pillows at two years dropping a black and white cat into a full bathtub, Pillows at five tying a row of tennis shoes together, even a picture of the woman at age seven painting the blank television screen.

"More entertaining than watching cartoons," she said as way of explanation. "My aunt took that picture thinking it was 'so creative.' So, you two done yet?"

"Hell no. this is interesting. And mildly disturbing," Grif replied.

"Thanks," she said. The teens couldn't tell if she was being facetious or not.

Soon, the bell rang, time having seemed to fly by. Pillows grinned and snatched up the book, closing it with a satisfying thud. She waved the couple away.

"Have fun, boys. And no naked pictures of each other!"

"Are there any other kind?" Grif called back, smirking while Simmons' mouth was agape. The Dutch-Irish quickly shook his head, composing himself, as they walked to lunch.

"Hi, guys!" Donut greeted, chipper, as they all sat in their usual spots, Kerry's empty seat painfully obvious.

"Hey, Donut-"

"How's Kerry?" Grif shrugged.

"She said she's fine…" There was silence for a bit. Finally, the blonde broke it.

"Maybe she's sick because of the ghost," he mused.

"What?"

"Well, there was this ghost inside Church's _mean_ girlfriend, and we helped exorcise it. Maybe something went wrong." Everyone else stared blankly at Donut. The younger boy looked around the table with confusion asking, "What?"

"Donut, what the hell are you talking about?" Simmons asked at last, seeing as the others were too flabbergasted by him to speak.

"I already told you guys, the ghost," Donut sighed, as if he were trying to explain to stubborn children.

"Loco pendejo," Lopez insulted with a snort, taking a bite out of the mockery of real Mexican food the school was serving that day.

"Man, you guys don't have any imagination at all; that's why you can't believe me," Donut told them, crossing his arms and pouting like a spoiled child.

"Donut, just shut up and eat," Grif ordered. His cousin stuck out his tongue in reply.

XXX

Tucker snapped the picture of the unknowing couple. They seemed…oddly happy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Church and Tex laugh together, no hint of malice between them. They almost seemed like a normal couple.

Tucker aimed the camera and zoomed in. She was kissing him, and it wasn't with her usual force. It almost seemed…loving. That couldn't be right. The dark-skinned boy pressed the button and took another picture. The moment was just so picturesque that he couldn't resist. Then, he took a picture of their interlocked hands only; that seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime sight when dealing with those two.

Slowly, Tucker lowered his camera. He stared out the open window at them wistfully-though, to the casual observer it would look as if he were simply bored with class and desperately needed out.

Church had started coming to that spot since the beginning of the year. It was a game they would play since elementary, really; Church would be within view by Tucker and he would become envious because the other boy was in a relationship. He had someone. Church knew just how to rub the fact in Tucker's face. Yet it seemed as if Church's attention was solely on Tex at that moment; he wasn't randomly smirking at where he knew the other boy would be looking out from as per usual.

If Tucker hadn't had the shrill voice of his teacher screaming at him to pay attention, he would have kept on staring and watching the couple all hour. Maybe even take another secret picture or two.

"Yeah, yeah, ya old hag," the teen mumbled, turning form the window.

"What was that?" the woman demanded, voice a dangerous warning tone.

"Nothin'," he lied, trying to fight the scratching urge to look back out the window.

XXX

Kerry clenched her eyes shut as she curled into a tight ball underneath the covers. Her head was pounding and all she could hear was laughter. Insane, wild laughter as if someone knew the secrets of the world-and they were ruthlessly _hilarious_.

"Stop that," she mumbled into her arms as she nuzzled into them.

The noise did not comply. After a while the girl, having grown fed up with the laughter, struggled out of the numerous covers and put her bare feet on the floor. Without bothering to cover them against the cold, she stumbled out of her room and to the bathroom. She opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out her brother's half-empty bottle of painkillers. With determination she popped off the lid and popped several into her mouth. However, as she was having a bit of trouble swallowing, she turned on the faucet and put her mouth against the refreshingly cold falling water. She took a gulp, the liquid making the pills go down with little resistance.

She brought her head up, turning off the faucet as she did so. Kerry put the cap back on the bottle, then placed it in its proper spot. Afterwards, she closed the medicine cabinet, not feeling much better.

"Fast working my ass," she grumbled, a hand delicately going up to her temple. Thankfully, though, the laughter had died down; it was now only a highly amused chuckle, as if the one making the sound had seen a child do something inordinately naïve.

Suddenly, Kerry heard someone speak. "Dear child, mere medicine will not stop me! You foolish, foolish mortal." There was then a sharp, derisive laugh.

"Who…?" she began to ask. Another laugh interrupted her, however, and the girl clutched her aching head, stumbling back to her bed and under her covers. Though, it did nothing to stanch the chilling sound.

XXX

"So, Caboose, you like Donut?" Sheila asked curiously as they walked together to their sixth period.

"He is fun. And so is his tongue," the boy answered, somehow managing to sound naively innocent. Shelia blinked back her shock.

"Oh, um, well..." she stuttered, taken aback. "I'm glad we're both happy." Suddenly, his eyes narrowed at her in a half-scowl, half-pout.

"You were getting too close to that _Lopez." _His words caused the slightly older girl to blush the color of a tomato.

"Well, um…We were just… Ah, -oh! Here comes Church!" She waved to said boy as a means of distracting Caboose. Luckily, his small attention span allowed for that quite easily.

"Hi, Church!" he greeted overly-cheerful, dislike for Lopez quickly evaporating for the time being.

"Hey, guys. What's up? And Caboose."

"Yeah?"

"I hate you."

"But…but why?" the other boy whimpered, bottom lip quivering.

"No…reason…None. At. All. I feel like a donut…" Church blinked, stunned at his own words.

"I like donuts," Caboose informed, demeanor brightening up once again.

"Oh, we were just talking about Caboose and Donut's budding relationship," Sheila offered. Subconsciously, Church narrowed his eyes.

"Yup. He is coming over Saturday," beamed the taller boy.

"That's wonderful!" the girl exclaimed, turning to him and forgetting the-now-growing-Church. "Everyone seems to be finding someone, hm? Even Doc is going out with that one girl."

Tex, smiling with no trace of malevolence, came bounding up to the group. She went unnoticed, however, as Sheila addressed Church.

"Who's the girl Doc likes?" she asked the scowling boy.

"Kerry," he answered through gritted teeth. This didn't go unnoticed by Tex; she misread the jealousy in his voice. The brunette ground her teeth together, making a mental not to keep that girl away from _her_ property.

As they went on talking about people and their respective relationships, Tex snaked an arm around Church's should and gripped it possessively. He didn't seem to feel it.

XXX

As soon as the two cousins got home, they immediately rushed up the stairs to check on Kerry's condition. They found the girl under her covers and half asleep. As they came in, however, she seemed to waken slightly, although she still seemed out of it.

"'Sup, guys. School over?" she asked, struggling to groggily prop herself up on an elbow.

"Yeah. You okay?" Grif asked as the two boys went over to her bed, Donut sitting on the edge.

"Head hurts. Voice laughing. I'm hungry. What's for dinner?" she replied, voice like a little child's.

"Hold on, what?" Grif asked, bewildered.

"Voice's been laughing in my head all day. Annoying. Can I have a banana split, Grif?"

"Ha! See, I told you it was the ghost," Donut said smugly.

"You, shut up. You," his voice softened. "What are you talking about?"

"Voice talking and laughing constantly. I don't like O'Malley. Make sure you put a lot of chocolate syrup on it. And nuts. Ooh, do we have any strawberries?" she asked hopefully.

"Not the season," Grif told his sister off-handedly. "So, hold on a minute. Let me get this straight. There's this ghost-"

"O'Malley," the younger two offered in unison.

"Right…So, _O'Malley_ is in your head from some ritual and you can't get rid of him," the older boy processed.

"Yup. Pretty much. And I want a banana split," Kerry added.

"Wow, Grif. You're really good at getting the whole story," Donut told him.

"Yeah, it comes with experience," he said. "Donut, you were doing that ritual with that Church guy, right?" His cousin nodded. "Good. Call him and figure this out."

"Okay."

"Well, I'm gonna go get the old photo albums out. Simmons'll be here soon." With that, he turned and left the room.

"Don't forget my banana split!" Kerry called out after him.

"I'll get it for ya," Donut told her, bouncing up from the bed and turning to follow his cousin out. Before he left, however, he said, "And I'll talk to Caboose and the others about getting O'Malley out of you after that."

"Thanks, Donut," Kerry mumbled as she laid back down with a plop. She ignored the rising laughter ringing in her ears.

XXX

As Donut descended the stairs, he saw his cousin go to the front door and open it. As he reached the bottom and made his way to the kitchen to get Kerry her banana split, Simmons came in. with a quick wave to each other, he went to refrigerator as the boyfriends went to the living room.

After making the banana split, adding plenty of nuts, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup (unfortunately they were out of cherries form las Friday so the blonde instead put a tiny umbrella on the top), Donut picked up the bowl with one hand. His other hand reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his phone. Flipping it open and pressing speed dial he called Caboose. (Just because they'd only met about a week ago didn't make the fact that Caboose was his first speed dial strange. Not. At. All.)

"Hey, Caboose," the dirty blonde greeted, going up the stairs.

"Hi, Muffins!" Caboose exclaimed, causing the blonde to smile wide.

On the other end of the line, the older boy bounced giddily on his bed. Church, sitting next to him on the floor, narrowed his eyes and unpaused their game. He began to press the buttons madly, hunching closer to the controller as if that would help transfer his fury into the game. Caboose took no notice, all of his attention aptly focused on Donut.

"Remember the party and how me and my cousin helped exorcise that ghost?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, the ghost is inside Kerry now," he told the other boy.

"That, is not good." At this, Church glanced up from the screen, anger slowly abating.

"Nope," the blonde agreed, opening and entering Kerry's room. The girl was dozing; he shook her slightly and laid the bowl next to her. "Is there any way to get O'Malley out of her?" he asked as the brunette blinked herself awake. She rubbed her eyes as Donut sat at the edge of the bed, careful not to knock over the dessert.

"Maybe. I will have to ask Churchy," Caboose replied. On his end of the line, he turned to the older boy while on the other side Kerry saw the banana split and gleefully attacked it, thanking her cousin with a mouthful of whipped cream.

"What the hell did you just call me, Caboose?" Church demanded, scowling at the younger teen.

"O'Malley is in Admiral Muffin's cousin," he informed, ignoring the question.

"Oh, goddamn it," he cursed, throwing down the game controller. "We can't get rid of the sunuvabitch, can we?" He got up then went over and took the phone from Caboose.

"Hey, Donut. It's me."

"Hi, Church," Donut said cheerfully. He turned as his cousin mumbled something, sounding like a strangled cat. She was still shoveling ice cream and toppings into her mouth. "Kerry says hi, too. Or she wants more ice cream; I'm not sure." Kerry flashed him her middle finger quickly, too involved in her banana split to really care. (And actually considering having him get her another.)

"Okay, so O'Malley's in Kerry…"

"Yup." There was a muffled curse.

"We'll be right over-Shit! I just remembered, my car's bein' borrowed by Tex right now and Caboose crashed his car a month ago."

"That light post was magic," he said in his own, weak, defense.

"I can get someone to pick you guys up," Donut told them. "But, um, you might also have to bring Sheila."

"Why?" Church questioned.

"'Cause that's the only way Lopez will do it," the blonde explained.

"Right. I'll call her."

"Okay. Thanks, Church."

"No problem, Donut. See you in a bit."

"See ya. Say bye to Caboose for me," he requested.

"Sure." With that, Church swiftly flipped the phone closed. Donut did the same before turning to Kerry.

"Need to call Lopez, and then they'll be over soon."

"Kay," the girl said, swallowing the last of her dessert.

Donut dial Lopez's number and waited for him to answer. When he finally did, the blonde asked, "How much do you love me?"

"Nada en absoluto," came the response, quickly and with little thought.

"How much do you like _Sheila_?" the younger boy tried.

There was a beat of silence then, "¿Por qué?"

"Because you have a chance to see her again. Just pick up her, Church and Caboose and bring them over here. Please?" he begged, using his most irresistibly cute voice he could muster at the moment.

"…Fine. Hijo de mil putas. Give me the dirección," he agreed.

"Yay! Thanks, Lopez!"

"Huevón." Donut, ignoring what he was sure was an insult, gave the Mexican teen the directions, then hung up.

"So, what're Grif and Simmons doin'?" Kerry asked. Donut shrugged.

"Prolly having couch-sex. Wanna go interrupt them?" he suggested.

"Of course!" she eagerly replied, jumping up and matching Donut's huge grin. O'Malley seemed to be quiet at the moment, and she wanted to savor that.

Getting up as well, Donut linked arms with the slightly smaller girl and they went out of the room and down the stairs. They peered into the living room; instead of the boys on the couch going at it like wild rabbits in heat who had been fed Viagra, Grif and Simmons were actually on the floor, surrounded by pictures.

"Ooh, whatcha doin'?" Kerry asked as they went over and sat down between the two.

"Looking at pictures for English," Simmons offered.

"Feelin' better?" Grif asked, looking up from a photo of him, Donut, and Kerry as toddlers. The younger two were pulling on his hair while he just crossed his arms and glared at the camera.

"Yeah," she answered, picking up a shoebox with the words "Boy scouts" on the lid.

Kerry took the top off, revealing a mountain of old photographs. A few slid out and she picked one up. She "awwed"; it was of the three boys in their uniforms. Grif was in the middle, still tallest, while Donut was on his left, smallest of the bunch. Grif's arms were around the others' shoulders, Simmons was gripping the older boy's right shoulder, and Donut's right arm was around his cousin's waist while his left was forming the peace sign.

"Hey, I remember that!" the blonde exclaimed, taking the picture from her.

"Yeah, so do I," Grif said dryly. "You wouldn't fuckin stop clinging to me."

"You loved it."

"Bullshit."

"But my hands fit so _well_ on you."

"Incest," Simmons interjected, smirking at Grif's horrified expression as he went through another pile of photographs, these mostly consisting of him, Sarge, and Lopez.

"Goddamn it," Grif cursed as the other two laughed, laying the pictures in his hands down and picking up several others at random.

Abruptly, a sneer planted itself on Grif's face as he turned a photo around for everyone to see. When they did there were two completely different reactions: rambunctious laughter and a mouth falling wide open.

"That…I thought I destroyed all copies of that," Simmons muttered disbelievingly to himself.

"Obviously not," Grif smirked.

The picture in question was of Simmons, Donut, Kerry, and Lopez. The oldest boy held a comb and plastic curlers while the blonde was holding several different wigs and the girl was painting Simmons' toenails blue. Simmons himself was wearing a yellow and white dress, lacy socks, black dress shoes for little girls, and his hair was a mass of curls on top of his head.

Simmons made a mad grab for the picture, but Grif snatched it away just in time. He grinned and shook his head, pocketing it. The freckled teen, cheeks red in a mix of infuriation and embarrassment, narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

"Oh, don't think I won't get into your pants." Grif grinned and the other two giggled. Simmons wasn't in the mood to care about accidental innuendoes.

Deciding that two could play at that game, Simmons frantically searched through a specific photo album. Turning to the page he wanted, he scanned the contents, knowing full well that Grif was watching him warily. Finally, he found what he was looking for and pulled out a single picture. It was Grif's turn to stare in astonishment.

"Oh, hell no."

"Oh, hell yes," Simmons corrected, ruefully smirking at the other teen.

This photo was of Grif, age four. It was Halloween, and the boy was dressed up as a pumpkin. Also, he looked as if he were about to cry.

"Truce?" Grif suggested, holding out his hand as the other two laughed.

"Truce, Pumpkin," Simmons agreed, still smirking, as he took Grif's hand and shook.

"Don't call me that you fuckin' minty Mexican," the brunet said, using the other teen's secret addiction to peppermints as a double insult.

"Damn it, Grif, I'm Dutch-Irish!"

"Hey, don't take your feisty Latino anger out on me!"

"…Seriously, Grif, one more time and I'll show you anger," he partially threatened, partially warned, and mostly promised.

XXX

"Te odio, Donut. Te odio, _mucho_," Lopez mumbled to himself, grabbing his keys from the nearby desk before leaving his room, making sure to close it completely after himself.

He started to descend the stairs, footsteps loud and heavy thuds against the wood at first. Soon, though, he slowed and quietly, gently put one foot on the step below as the sound of his father speaking-heated and angry, and sounding dangerous in his southern accent-was heard. Then, he stopped altogether, leaning over slightly in the direction where his voice was coming from. Sarge's voice was going higher than lower than higher again at random intervals, however, enabling him to catch only bits and pieces of the conversation already in progress.

"I…No, ya don't have ta…I'm takin' good care…Jus' 'cause he's… Nothin' wrong with…" Finally, there was a low snarl and the words, "Fine. Come an' see fer yerself!" Lopez winced as the phone was roughly thrust back unto the base, making a loud, sharp ring of protest.

Eyes wide, Lopez finished going down the stairs, with light footfalls. He ran into his father, looking out of it and angrier than the boy had ever seen him. He cleared his throat and was the first to speak.

"I'm going to la casa de stupido."

"Grif? Sure, tha's fine. Uh, have fun…" Sarge mumbled, passing his son as he went up the staircase.

Wondering what had his father so infuriated and who he had just gotten off the phone with, Lopez grabbed his jacket and went out into the cold. It was snowing again, and the Mexican cursed his luck. He got into his black Mercedes Benz and started the ignition. He backed out carefully and, when out of the driveway, the teen took the directions Donut had given him. He seriously hoped they were right (and then again, he hoped the opposite; he really, _really_ liked Sheila and the less time they spent together, the less chance he'd have of screwing things up).

Finding the house, he pulled into the driveway and got out after turning off the ignition. He went to the front door and knocked impatiently. A minute later it was opened. By Sheila.

"Oh, hello again, Lopez," she greeted.

"Um, I uh…H-hola, Sheila…" he stuttered back, gulping and sweating as if he wasn't in the December cold. The girl gave him a soft, pleasant smile as Church and Caboose came up behind her.

"Hello, person-who-is-getting-too-close-to-Sheila!" Caboose exclaimed, trying to sound dark and menacing. He failed miserably, instead only succeeding in mimicking a pouting child denied a desired toy.

"Yeah, yeah, Caboose. Get over it. Let's go," Church ordered, with no sympathy for his friend, ushering them all out and to the car.

Lopez, of course, was the driver, Sheila got in the passenger seat, and the other two slid into the back. Caboose continued pouting and glaring at Lopez while he and the girl next to him shared awkward glances. Church just looked out the window, trying to ignore everything. He only vaguely achieved that goal.

"It's nice to see you again, Lopez," Sheila told him finally, honestly, wanting to fill up the silence with _something._

"Sí…" he mumbled, griping the wheel so intensely that if he realized what he was doing he would have feared damaging his car.

They began to strike up a conversation, Caboose growing more and more jealous with each word passed between the two. After a while he turned to Church.

"Guess what," he said.

"No," was the blunt reply.

"I really, _really_ like Donut!" Caboose exclaimed. Church shut his eyes instantly, headache starting to form already.

"He is cute and fun," the younger boy went on, even though Sheila and Lopez were not listening to him.

"Oh, my god. Caboose, I don't care," the shorter teen said, exasperated.

"His hair is silky. I like _blonde_ hair. Not _dark_ hair," he said purposefully, pointedly paying no attention to Church. Sheila laughed at something Lopez said.

"Yup. Muffins is pretty. And fun. And tasty," Caboose concluded, not one to be discouraged easily. Church by now was banging his head against the window.

Luckily for his sanity, Lopez pulled into a driveway. Church jumped out like a man freed from prison after twenty years, the rest following at much slower pace. First one to the door, Church knocked as Caboose then, taking their time, Lopez and Sheila joined him. The door was answered by Donut.

"Hi, guys," he greeted, grinning knowingly at Lopez. The older teen just narrowed his eyes at the blonde. He stepped to the side, allowing them to come in. when Sheila entered the house last Donut complimented, "You look great in that shirt, Sheila! Don't you think so, Lopez?"

"I, um, er…I…y-yes," he stuttered with a gulp after his eyes trailed down to the girl's chest. It was a simple cotton shirt that hugged her curves, and it was effective. Sheila blushed brightly as she thanked him.

Caboose, seeing the exchange and not liking it one bit, turned to Donut and said, "You look pretty, too." The blonde smiled even wider.

"Thanks, Caboose."

The group went into the living room where Grif, Simmons, and Kerry were still looking at pictures. When they came in, the three looked up. Upon seeing Church and Caboose, Kerry jumped up and pointed accusingly at them.

"YOU! Insufferable monkeys! How dare you think you could get rid of me at all! I shall crush you as easily as a can of Red Bull or Pepsi! Both of which are disgusting."

Everyone stared, stunned silent, at Kerry when the rant was finished. The girl herself blinked like a deer out of headlights and slowly brought her hands in front of her. She stared at them curiously as she asked a question incredulously.

"Did you just take over my body?"

"Yes. Yes, I did," the ghost replied proudly, using her mouth to speak.

"He tends to do that. A lot," Church told her, snapping out of shock quickly.

"Oh, okay," she replied nonchalantly, dropping her hands to her side.

Sheila, meanwhile, was led to the couch by Lopez. They sat side-by-side a Grif and Simmons rose from the floor, the latter dusting himself off. Before anything else could be done, Caboose waved and said hi to Kerry, and O'Malley took over again.

"What makes you think you are worthy enough to greet me? You are the gum at the bottom of my shoe! The osteoporosis on my toothpaste cap! The jammed staple in my stapler! The dent in my new car!" he started to yell, moving Kerry's body so they were once more pointing, solely at Caboose this time.

As the spirit continued ranting in a loud, booming voice, Donut inched his way over to Simmons and Grif, who was enjoying the scene, as Church did the same-to get out of the battlefield. Caboose just looked like a stricken puppy as he listened to O'Malley.

"Should we stop him?" Church asked, not really caring if they did or not. In all honestly, he was enjoying it as much as Grif seemed to. Which was _a lot._

"Are you kidding? The ghost inside my sister is yelling at my cousin's crush. I wanna watch this," the taller boy replied. With a chuckle Simmons shook his head slightly.

"That's mean," Donut said, making no move to take any action besides that of a spectator.

A few minutes passed like that, O'Malley never stopping for breath (Kerry's lungs were extremely healthy and large; plus, the ghost never ran out of things to say when he was like that), before the phone rang. Saying he'd get it, Donut sidestepped everyone and made his way to the kitchen. He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Franklin," a cold, female voice greeted. It froze the boy. "Is your father there?" The dirty blonde narrowed his eyes, finding words.

"No, your _ex-husband_ isn't," he replied just as coldly, almost able to feel the scratching ice in his mouth. "Can I take a message, or is that too gay?" There was a heavy sigh from the other end of the line.

"Franklin, let's not get into this right now. When will your father be home?" She seemed tired, but the teen didn't want to giver her a break.

"How should I know? Remember, I'm just the 'stupid faggot'," he reminded pointedly.

"Franklin-"

"Oh, don't even say that name!" he interrupted. By this point, no sounds were coming from the other room; although Donut took no notice of this at all.

"Do not raise your voice at me, young man," the woman said threateningly, easily adopting a state of authority.

"You're not my mother anymore! You said that yourself like six years ago." He mentally cursed himself as his voice died down immediately to a sad, wistful whisper.

"Franklin, this is not the time to discuss-"

"Doesn't matter," he cut in, voice full of rage again. "There's nothing to discuss. What do you want?"

"We talked earlier, your father and I. I'm coming over tomorrow and leaved before Christmas. I need to make sure he's still able to pick me up," she told him.

Donut's eyes widened and his mouth fell open an inch. He tried to form a coherent sentence, but nothing would come out, let alone form in his mind. Finally, though, after a long uncomfortable silence, the boy found his voice.

"Why?" He hoped it didn't come out as a whine.

"We need to talk, your father and I. about certain things. Maybe I want to be more involved in your life," she replied. "Are you still gay?"

"I'm the gayest fairy in all of fairyland, or so Grif tells me," Donut replied with an air of haughtiness. "I love wearing high-heels, mini-skirts, and v-neck shirts. And you can't just come back into my life, ya know. You haven't seen me in like six years now, you barely call and when you do we always fight. When you even decide to talk to me besides 'where's your father?'" The woman sighed again, sounding more tired than before.

"Franklin, please. I am your mother. And besides, all things change."

"Nothin's unconditional, huh?"

"I suppose not. But I'm coming no matter what," she said with finality.

"Fine, come. See if I care," he seethed. He then took a deep, hopefully cleansing breath. "I hate you," Donut told her matter-of-factly.

"Goodbye, Franklin."

"I hate you," he repeated monotone.

He stood there, still as a statue, for a moment after his mother had hung up. After growing tired of the empty dial tone screeching in his ear, the teen hung up. Slowly, Donut trudged back to the living room, forcing his lips into an obviously strained smile.

"Hey, guys. What'd I miss?" he asked with faux cheeriness.

"Donut, are you okay?" Kerry asked, having taken back control of her body form O'Malley.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just gonna…go up stairs and get some beauty sleep. Really tired," he lied, faking a yawn. "See you guys. Later, Caboose." He blew the other teen a kiss, then disappeared like a fading memory up the stairs.

"And that's what happens when Donut's darling mother calls," Grif said dryly as a way of explanation after a minute of silence.

"Should we, um, go after him?" Caboose asked unsurely. Grif shook his head no, leaning against the couch armrest.

"No, it's best to just leave him alone." They all knew he was probably right, but everyone still wanted to follow him, regardless.

XXX

Up in his room, Donut threw himself haphazardly unto his bed, face down. He bit into a hot pink pillow in an attempt to muffle his screams. When he was done, feeling emptier inside than he had for years, he flipped on to his back with a heaved sigh.

The dirty blonde gazed up at his ceiling, not really seeing it. Apparently, he was going to see the mother who abandoned him when he was ten. Because he was gay and had kissed some boy in the backyard (he couldn't even remember who anymore). There went his Christmas cheer.


	11. Chapter 10 A Mother’s Visit

**A/N: **I'm feeling better. Besides the fact that I'm exhausted for no apparent reason. And my arm is locking up. That's not good. But, I bring you the next chapter. And it's on time!!! And today, kiddies, ladies, and gentlemen, you meet Donut's mother, a new character (le gasp!), and you'll get an insight on Grif and Simmons' relationship. Also, many other entertaining things.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there's Grif/Simmons, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Mothers, family members, awkward and hard conversations, airports, homophobia, cursing, rituals, cluelessness, talking, PDA, incest jokes, slash, het, nakedness, illusions to (make-up) sex, fluff, ghosts, crystals, freezer doors, cracks, hitting family jewels, kisses, calls, orders, sandwiches, more pictures, cheerleaders, ex-best friends forever, mentions of last summer, meatloaf, aprons, scars and sexiness (that's a funny word), chalk, floors, tables, reunions, falls, laughter, dreams, sleeping in class, New Year's Resolutions, tasting, wedding talk, skulls, Spanglish, strange doodles, and threats.

Chapter 10  
A Mother's Visit  
Or  
Murphy Spoke the Truth  
(And It Sucks to be Ignored)

Donut groaned and slammed his locker shut. He'd gotten a total of an hour of sleep the previous night and had constantly tossed and turned. Every time he had closed his eyes he remembered his mother. Baking cookies in the shape of his favorite animals, practically demanding that they take in Grif and Kerry, tucking them each in at night after reading them all a bedtime story…Yelling at him, hitting him, abandoning him when she found out… He was just thankful she had never told his father.

It was going to be a long day.

"Aww, if it isn't wittle Miss Donut. Don't all the boys just wanna eat him up?" a voice behind him sneered. The dirty blonde groaned again, banging his head against his locker.

"Not in the mood, Ashley," he grumbled, turning to face his ex-bff and two other cheerleaders, Jessica K. and Jessica G.

"Aww, poor baby," she mockingly cooed. The other girls laughed as if on cue. "What's the matter, no knight in shining armor coming to rescue you?"

"Actually," he snapped, "the mother who I haven't seen for six years is coming back for the holidays and I'm really just not in the mood for your attitude." Donut took grim, sadistic satisfaction at their startled faces. He turned and angrily stomped off, not seeing Ashley's guilt gaze at his retreating back.

It was going to be an _extremely_ long day.

XXX

Where everyone else had at least one picture of their parents (in Simmons' case of Sarge) Grif had absolutely no photograph with them in it. There was one of Simmons and him climbing a tree in their Boy Scout uniforms, three of him and Kerry together, two of just him and Donut, and the rest were of the four together at various points. Not a single one held proof that he even _had_ parents.

"Okay, congratulations on bringing ten pictures," Pillows said with little enthusiasm to the room where only a half of the students had remembered or even bothered. She brightened up when she explained what they were doing with them, however.

"You're supposed to write at least five complete sentences for each picture. This will give us-" she pointed at Simmons.

"Fifty sentences," he answered.

"Exactly."

From the corner of his mouth Grif whispered, "Teacher's know-it-all pet." In retaliation, Simmons hit him under the desk, right between his legs. Hard. With an "oomph," Grif's hands instantly went to where he'd been injured and he hunched over his desk.

"Great," he hissed. "Now I'm never gonna be able to have kids."

"Don't worry," the freckled boy told him with a grin. "I'll impregnate you." The brunet's only retort was to flip him off and lay his head down on the table in pain.

"So, have fun, be creative, and all that," Pillows dismissed with a wave. She snorted amusedly as the teens instantly turned towards each other, talking as though they had never stopped their conversing.

Spotting Grif in what seemed a lot of suffering and his boyfriend smirking ruefully next to him, she went over to the couple. She raised an eyebrow at the brunet, then turned to Simmons.

"Did you break him?" She received two simultaneous answers.

"No."

"Yes."

Looking over at Grif, who had moaned out his reply, he shrugged unabashedly. "Maybe just a little." With a chuckled, she crouched down on the balls of her feet and shuffled through Grif's pictures.

"Not on good terms with your parents," she stated more than asked. The brunet lifted his head.

"Dad was an alcoholic, left us when I was ten. Year later, my mom did the same," he told her bitterly. She gave a small nod then pointed at the picture of Grif and Simmons climbing a tree.

"You guys were in the Boy Scouts?" she asked incredulously.

"Yup. He stabbed me with his Swiss army knife once," Grif replied, giving his boyfriend an accusing look.

"It was an accident," he defended exasperatedly as though he'd said it a million times before.

"Bullshit! I still have the scar. Scars like that don't exactly scream 'accident'."

"Scars make you look even sexier?"

"Yes. Yes, they do," Grif agreed, leaning back suggestively to show off his body. Simmons and Pillows shared a snicker, which turned to full-blown laughter. "Eh, screw you two." He crossed his arms and sulked. As the laughter dimmed down, the two shared a look, causing them to laugh again, even harder this time.

The bell rang and the other students in the room, who had been watching the three perplexedly, filed out of the classroom. Laughs dying down, Simmons and Grif said their goodbyes and followed suit.

"Try not to break him again," Pillows called out. "Too much trouble to fix him!" Simmons laughed, Grif scowled.

"Oh, my god. I hate you guys."

"You don't even really believe in God."

"Don't care."

They walked to their lunch table and sat down. Lopez was already there and, a beat later, Kerry and Donut joined them. As they sat their trays down, they continued their conversation.

"I could always seduce Brent, you know. To piss Ashley off," Kerry offered.

"Whoa, what?" Grif demanded. The younger teens turned to him.

"I was just telling Kerry how Ashley and me got into it this morning," Donut explained.

"Yeah, and I was just saying that I could get back at her," Kerry added.

"No seducing anyone. Ever," Grif told her, giving the girl a stern look.

"You're no fun," she whined, sticking her tongue out at him.

"Hey, you said earlier that the guys are gonna try to get things set up for another ritual, right?" Donut asked. Kerry nodded.

"Yup. I'm going over to Doc's after school. Apparently, they found this new ritual thing that can be done by two people if their wave lengths are close together," she told them.

"Is it just me or does that sound like-" Grif began.

"A bad pick up line you'd use on me," Simmons confirmed.

"That's why I wore this cute top," Kerry went on, ignoring the older boys. She made a sweep at mentioned top: yellow, short-sleeved, and a low neckline with pink, blue, and green stars trailing down her left side starting on her breast.

"Ooh, that's really cute," Donut complimented.

"I know," she beamed. "I'll get this _annoying_ ghost out of me and I'll get to spend time with Doc! It's like a double win."

"Yeah, that makes me feel safe to leave you two alone,' Grif mumbled. He was, unsurprisingly, pointedly ignored.

XXX

"Ooh, when we get married, my bridesmaids will wear pink!" Tex exclaimed, clapping her hands together in faux excitement. Church sighed. "What should our wedding song be?" He could almost feel the sarcasm dripping form his girlfriend's voice.

"Tex, it was a hypothetical question. Hence why I said 'pretend we got married."

"Still, though, that's the stupidest fucking question you have ever asked me. And you've asked a _lot_," she sneered. Changing topic she ordered, "Now give me back my pencil so I can finish this equation." The boy was about to say something but she quickly added as an after though, "Or I'll rip out your skull and beat you with it."

"Ouch," he mumbled, handing her back the pencil. As she took it and went back to working on math problems, Church kept on speaking.

"I think it was a good question. Seriously, if we got married, where would you want to do it at?" Tex, ignoring him, put down her answer for a complicated problem. Church sighed and, defeated, looked down at his own paper. He knew it wouldn't do any good to say anything; she wouldn't answer questions like that.

Church, bored and unable to concentrate on his assignment, began to doodle on his page. A line here, a curve there, some random squiggle thrown in for the hell of it…and he ended up with a picture of an elaborate something-or-other (maybe a kite or a bird) flying away from an outstretched hand.

Abruptly, Tex asked in a bored manner, "You know you're mine, right?"

"Huh?" he responded, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

"You know you're coming over after school to get the crystals, right?" she asked, referring to the crystals needed for Kerry's exorcism. (It was amazing what you could pick up on short notice when you knew the right people.) Church nodded.

"Yeah, actually, change of plans. Doc's gonna drop by and get them while I just stay over there," he informed.

"Oh, joy," she replied with little, if any, elation. Really, however, she was glad. Though, she told herself, just slightly.

The bell rang and they gathered their things. Walking to their last class, they met up with Tucker. He gave a small wave to the couple, rubbing his eyes and walking with them.

"Just got up?" Church guessed.

"Up all night playing Half-Life. Forgot to sleep then," the other boy confirmed with a yawn. He left out how he started playing because his dreams had involved him and a naked body in a compromising situation. And both had been enjoying it. Yet the body was a male.

"Nice."

"Idiot."

The trio arrived at their classroom and, ignoring their remarks, Tucker went in first and sat down in the back. He promptly laid his head down while the other two went and took the seats next to him. The warning bell sounded and more students piled in. Then, when the ringing of the final bell was heard, their teacher walked in.

"Okay, guys. Today's a fun writing activity. Your homework is to write a list of New Years Resolutions for yourself," Mr. Younge told them.

Groaning, Tucker complained, "I hate homework. Couldn't he just give us an assignment instead?"

"Seriously, man, shut the hell up," Church said, taking out a sheet of paper. Tex did the same and, eventually, so did Tucker.

Church stared at his paper a long time. He was vaguely aware of how next to him on his right Tucker was breathing deeply in the beginnings of sleep and to his left Tex was staring out the window. All around him he could hear the familiar scratch of paper being assaulted by pencil and the voices of his classmates whispering back and forth. After a while, Church though of something to write down: _be a better boyfriend._

Tex frowned, tearing her eyes from the snowy outside world and back to her blank page. Deciding that she needed _some_thing, she wrote: _Kill everyone. Or enslave humanity. _O'Malley would be proud. Slightly threatened, but proud.

Cringing a bit, the girl added a second thing to her list: _Only cheat on Church when he really pisses me off._ Thinking it over, she crossed out the last part and replaced it with _only once a month._ After that she put: _And protect my property._

Tucker's eyes fluttered open groggily. He had started to have the oddest, familiar dream. He couldn't remember what it was about, but he was sure someone he knew was in it… And he was hard.

Tucker groaned and glared down at his crotch. Oh, you son of a bitch, he thought peeved. His cock seriously had the. Worst. Timing. Ever. At least he wasn't standing up.

Crossing his legs, the teen picked up his pencil and looked at his slightly-rumpled-from-sleeping-on-it piece of paper. Assuming that his teacher wouldn't accept a whole list of nothing and wrinkles (and some drool on the side), he wrote: _play more video games. _He yawned, causing him to realize his current state. Tucker scribbled out _more_ and wrote _less_ above it. That caused him pain.

Underneath that line, the black boy put down to try and stop having erections in class. His teacher would love that.

Tucker glanced over at Church. The smaller boy's goatee popped out at him, and a flash of the dream played in his head. Turning red and thanking the fact his skin was so dark, Tucker hurriedly looked down at his paper. _And stop having dreams about my best friend,_ he added.

The thought that resolutions were meant to be broken like rules appeared in his mind and Tucker fought to push it down.

XXX

"Well, there's Doc. See you guys later!" Kerry called out, running to Doc's car. Grif watched her go in with a scowl on his face. Simmons chuckled while Donut waved at her.

"Seriously, I-" he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, however, as his phone started playing his ringtone. He looked quizzically at the caller ID a minute before answering.

"Hello?"

"Dexter," came the sound of his uncle's voice. "I'm swamped at the office here and I can't leave. Do you think you could pick up your aunt Helen? Her plane should be here in an hour."

"Sure…" Grif replied, unsurprised. After all, it wasn't his first time being tied up by work.

"Thanks. Drive safely." He hung up quickly and his nephew did the same.

"Guess what," he said, pocketing his phone.

"What?" Donut asked.

"We're picking up your mother."

"What!" the blonde exclaimed in horror. His cousin gave a small, apologetic shrug.

"We're picking her up. She gets here in like an hour."

"No," Donut said stubbornly, making his way to the car.

"What do you mean by that?" Grif asked, both other boys following after him.

"Do you want to just leave her at the airport?" Simmons asked. Donut gave a grim chuckle, leaning up against the red-orange vehicle.

"I mean that I want you guys to drop me off at home. Please," he added, voice a tiny whisper.

"Okay," Grif agreed, unlocking the car.

As they got in, Donut in back and the other two in front, the blonde mumbled, "Thanks." If he was heard, the brunet gave no sign. He just turned the key in the ignition, trying to get it to start. Once it did, he pulled out of the parking space and off of school grounds.

The drive to Donut's house was quiet; the blonde looked out the window with his forehead to the glass not really seeing anything, Simmons opened a book and stared at it yet never turned the page, and Grif simply gripped the wheel and drove. No one felt like turning on the radio. No one felt like listening to anything other than the noise of Grif's car sounding as though it might start spitting out its lifeblood.

XXX

"So then I just poured bleach on it and she never knew the difference. And it wasn't _technically_ lying since she got it back and it wasn't ruined," Kerry mused. Doc was fascinated by her extravagant hand gestures. He still had no earthly idea what she was talking about, however.

"Right," he said with a nod. "I'm, uh, going to go see of the crystals are frozen enough yet. Do you want anything?" he asked getting up.

"No thanks, I'm fine," she replied, finishing up drawing a symbol in white chalk on the hardwood floor of Doc's living room.

Doc went into the kitchen and quietly pulled out his cellphone, going to the freezer. He opened both, then dialed Church's cell number while he delicately touched the crystals they had picked up an hour ago; they still weren't completely frozen.

"Doc?" Church mumbled into the phone.

"Hello, Church. Did I wake you?" On his end, the other teen looked down at a naked Tex sprawled on top of him, glaring because he'd had the audacity to answer the phone.

"Er, sort of. Whatcha need?"

"Well, Kerry's been talking for the past…" he glanced at his watch. "…hour. But I haven't understood a thing she's said," the teen admitted in a panic.

"Calm down, Doc. It's fine; all women just like to babble. Just nod when appropriate," Church advised. Tex growled, a hand reaching up and twisting his left nipple painfully. He let out a screech, almost dropping the phone.

"Ouch! What the _hell_?" he exclaimed as Tex got up and started to leave the room. Then it occurred to him. "Wait! I meant, um, other women. Not you. Tex! Tex?" She held up a middle finger behind her as she left the room. "Goddamn it."

"Is everything alright?" Doc asked. Letting out a long breath of air, Church plopped back against the headboard with a non-assuring thud.

"Yeah, fine. Just remember what I said and don't screw up. Bye."

"Bye, Church." They hung up and Doc pocketed his cellphone. He took a deep, soothing breath before going back into his living room.

Kerry was leaning against the loveseat, the odd-yet-familiar symbol drawn. Careful not to trip on the overturned rug, he made his way to the younger girl. Sitting down besides her, Doc smiled, and she returned it.

"Crystals ready yet?" she asked him. Doc shook his head.

"Not yet," he replied. "Just a little longer, though, I think."

XXX

Church-figuring he should get up, swallow his pride, and go apologize to Tex-did just that. He went to the kitchen where his girlfriend was sitting with a mug of hot chocolate. The boy admired the way the light hit her and how it made her look…clear, translucent. Then, he went over and sat adjacent to her.

"So, um…" he began, unsure of what to say. She took a sip of her drink. "For the record, I do listen to you. All the time, in fact," he assured. "You'll kick my ass if I don't." She seemed to consider that for a moment before responding.

"True."

In a single, swift movement Tex sat down her mug and had Church pinned under her on the table.

"Make-up sex?"

"Make-up sex."

Two matching smirks.

XXX

Caboose concentrated on the stuffed rabbits before him. Silently, he evaluated them; three were different shades of brown, one was black, the last white. They were the five most adorable bunny rabbits in the store, and the boy was dead-set on getting the absolute perfect one.

He took a brown rabbit, the one with brown and gray in its fur, and hugged it to his chest. Then he tossed it over his shoulder, deeming the brown-and-gray rabbit not fluffy enough. He picked up another, fully brown, rabbit and repeated the process. This one met the same fate.

"Damn it, Caboose," Tucker moaned. "Hurry up." Another stuffed rabbit landed at his feet.

"I need to find the bestest bunny," the younger boy whined.

"Whatever," Tucker grumbled.

Caboose picked up the black rabbit and hugged it. He "hmmed," rubbing the stuffed animal's fur. Gently, he fingered each ear. He smiled, then threw the rabbit behind him; this one hit Tucker in the eyes.

"Oh, you son of a mother fu-" the angry boy was interrupted mid-curse by Caboose shoving the remaining, white, rabbit in his face.

"Say hello to Muffin's new bun-bun!" he exclaimed.

"Caboose, get that thing the fuck out of my face," Tucker said in response. He was really regretting bringing Caboose Christmas shopping.

"Let's go to the jewelry department now," the smaller boy suggested, giving Tucker no choice but to follow him as he turned and stated walking, rabbit, held tightly as if it were his lifelong companion.

"Goddamn it," Tucker grumbled as they went to the jewelry counter.

Caboose and the stuffed animal peered like judges at the selections. They started with necklaces; nothing seen was quite right. Then the two went on to rings; nothing seemed to pop out (plus, he really didn't know Donut's finger size and neither did the bunny). After that they looked at bracelets and earrings; there were some pretty ones, but no _perfect_ ones. Also, he didn't think Donut's ears were even pierced. Finally, as Caboose and the stuffed rabbit got to the end of the counter, they spotted a pair of expensive designer hairclips.

They were thin with a pink base. Sparkling magenta gemstones glimmered along their tops. If one were to look closely at Caboose or the rabbit's eyes, they would have seen the reflections of the clips, bringing awe to said eyes.

"Ooh, perfect," Caboose mumbled to the rabbit, picking them up and simultaneously taking out his father's credit card.

XXX

Without examining the two crystals beyond temperature, Doc took them out and went back to Kerry waiting in the living room. He placed one on either side of the chalk symbol and both he and the girl kneeled down in front of their respective crystal. Kerry picked up a thin, black book and read form it.

"'When the crystals are in place, the partners must join hands and close their eyes. Then, with great concentration, the partners must chant as they search for the ghost's aura amongst the host's.'"

"What do we need to chant?" Doc asked as he shyly joined hands with the younger girl.

"'Ot u, Spt iri. Og fm ro hist soth.'" Kerry replied, her mouth trying to get used to the strange words.

Putting the book down, both teens closed their eyes as instructed. Hands interlocked, they began to chant. After only a few minutes, the crystals began to glow brilliantly while their voices synced up. The crystals shook and a sweat broke out across Kerry's brow. She kept on chanting, though, even as she started to feel O'Malley manifest himself.

It started with a tingling sensation in her core, then the feeling spread throughout her body. She could almost see the ghost's aura on her eyelids like a projection as he started to form in the archaic symbol between the teens. She sensed he was trying to tell her something, but his scratchy voice was fading from her range of hearing.

Suddenly, with a loud shrieking and a powerful gust of wind that enveloped the room with frightening arms, the crystals blazed with a searing light. Then, when everything had settled, returning back to normal, the teenagers opened their eyes.

"Did it…did it work?" Doc asked. He looked at their still-locked hands and quickly let go.

"Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Doc," she replied, giving him a smile.

XXX

"I hate waiting," Grif griped, drumming his fingers on the airport chair armrest.

"As you've stated for the past _hour_," Simmons told him with a sigh. "When was her plane supposed to come in? About forty-five minutes ago?"

"Yeah," he replied. "God, I'm so bored."

"No. we're not starting this again," Simmons said.

"What?"

"This cycle. You say you're bored, I tell you 'I know.' You suggest we do something and I refuse. Then you beg me until I yell out 'I'm not fucking you until after finals,' causing everyone near to stare at us," Simmons explained, crossing his arms with a huff.

"I'm sure I can crack yo-" Grif was cut off suddenly as Simmons captured his lips with a burst of speed and teenage passion.

Grif let out a low, wonton moan, eyes instantly closing, as his boyfriend slipped his warm tongue into his mouth. Simmons reached up with a hand and grasped the brunet's hair, pulling him closer as his other one was placed on his inner thigh. Grif's own hands were going up and down the smaller boy's back; to the passerby it seemed as if they couldn't get enough of each other.

There was a cough in front of them. Breaking apart, they saw a mousy brown haired woman who looked disgustingly at them.

"Hey, Helen," Grif greeted, both teens panting slightly.

"In public?" she asked disapprovingly. "Why do you insist on shoving your sexuality in others' faces?" She conveniently failed to notice the male-female couple doing exactly what they had been doing right across from them.

"Nice to see you, too," Simmons said dryly.

"Where's your uncle, Dexter?"

"Work. Where else?" he told her with a shrug as he stood up. He started going to the front of the airport, the other two following. "Got all your stuff?" he questioned, eyeing her two bags of luggage.

"Yes, I do. Richard, could you carry this?" she asked, voice almost pleasant.

"Sure," he replied, taking the tote bag she handed him.

"Oh, good. For a second there, I thought you would fear it breaking your delicate nails." The thing that really pissed Simmons off about her comment was the fact that it wasn't a scathing remark but rather, a simple misconception.

When they reached his red-orange car, Grif took out his keys and unlocked it. Then he opened up the trunk and helped Helen put her bags up. That done, the woman got in the back seat, allowing Simmons to crawl into the front next to Grif.

Secretly, Grif whispered to him, "That was a low thing to do. I'm rubbin' off on you." Simmons grinned at him brazenly. As they drove out of the airport, Helen gazed out the window.

"My, it sure is snowing out here," she commented wistfully, more to herself rather than the other occupants of the car. "It always was so beautiful during the winter." Neither boy could find anything to say to that.

"So," the woman said abruptly, all trace of nostalgia gone, as she turned to the teenagers in the front. "Robert says you two are football players now."

"Yeah. And Donut's the head cheerleader," Grif confirmed with a grin. "Doesn't look half bad in a skirt, either." Simmons mouthed the word "incest" and Grif put out his middle finger, both hands still on the wheel. The woman in the back only frowned.

XXX

"Thanks again for getting O'Malley outta me. He was really annoying," Kerry said, opening the car door. Before she got out, however, she turned to Doc and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she left and went inside, hips purposefully swaying, although it was just slightly.

Doc sat there, stunned. A finger gently and disbelievingly went up to his cheek. Then, suddenly bursting with excitement, he took out his cellphone and dialed Church's number with great haste.

"What is it?" came the irritated voice form the other end.

"Church, Kerry kissed me!"

"…Wow. That's great. Never before has that happened in history; a guy gets kissed by the girl he wants. That's fuckin' headline news right there. During your interview, I bet _someone_ will ask what she tasted like," Church mocked dryly.

"I didn't actually, um…The kiss was on the cheek," Doc told him meekly.

"Oh. My. Fuckin'. God. You called to tell me _that_? Doc, until you can tell me what she tastes like, don't call me." With that, Church hung up.

The teen laid his head on the table, setting his cellphone down. He heard a chuckle from the doorway and Church turned.

"What she tastes like?" she questioned, hands on hips as she sauntered over to the smaller teen.

"Doc got kissed on the cheek," he informed her.

"Good," Tex mumbled, sitting down next to him.

"What was that?" the boy asked, not understanding the words too low for him to catch.

"Go make me something to eat," she ordered. "A sandwich sounds good."

"But it's your house," he complained.

"Point?" Grumbling, Church got up and went to the refrigerator.

XXX

"Hey, Donut," Kerry greeted, sitting down next to her brooding cousin on the couch. "Where's Grif?"

"Picking up Helen," he responded sulking. Turning to her he curiously asked, "How'd it go with Doc?"

"We got O'Malley out of me with no problems. And I kissed his cheek!" she told him giddily.

"Really?" he asked, sharing in her joy. "That's great."

Before they could converse more, the front door opened and a ruckus was started up. There was a loud thud, a curse, and the words "Be careful with that, Dexter!" Then, Grif Simmons, and the mother-he-hadn't-seen-for-six-years walked into the living room.

"Franklin, Kerry. Hello. My, how you two have…grown," she greeted, eyes sweeping over the two, her son in particular. She observed their choice in clothing with some disdain; the boy was wearing a tight pink shirt with the word 'Cutie' in white print on the front that she did not like on him at all.

"Oh, great, your plane didn't crash," Donut said, lacking enthusiasm. His cousin dropped all of the woman's luggage unceremoniously on the floor. She glared at him.

"Be careful with that!" she shrieked again.

"I'm not getting paid for this and even if I was I still would care enough," Grif said as Donut got up and went into the kitchen. Grif sat down at where he had been, Simmons sitting next to him.

"Don't walk away, young man," the woman commanded, sternly, following after him.

Donut, ignoring her, challenging her to do something, opened up a low-fat diet shake and took a sip. Helen pressed a hand to her forehead and took a seat at the table. After a minute, the boy sat down next to her. He placed his drink on the table, refusing to even glance at her.

"Franklin," she began.

"It's been six years," he mumbled. The woman sighed. The three in the living room tried, and failed, not to listen in.

"I know, Franklin, I know…It's just that…I love you, honey," she said, looking fondly at him.

"You left. You _abandoned_ me," he reminded, still not looking at her.

"I…I can't accept the choices you've made-"

"I didn't choose to be gay. Just like I didn't choose to be blonde. But if I _could_ change, I wouldn't," he told her.

"But I still love you," she continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"How can you say you love someone when you don't accept them?" He sounded truly curious; no malice or blame present in his tone. He looked at her like a small, lost and confused child. She looked away.

"It…It's complicated. It's too hard to explain right now, Franklin," she murmured weakly.

Before either child or parent had a chance to talk further, the front door opened and closed again. This time, it was Donut's father. He walked into the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks when he laid eyes on his ex-wife.

"H-hello, Helen. I see the last six years have been good to you," he said, eyeing her up and down; his eyes couldn't seem to drink their fill.

"You flatter me, Robbie," the woman said with a small pinkish blush, using the old nickname she had given him when they had first met.

Sickened at how easily they seemed to fall back into their old, loving routine, Donut went up stairs, not even caring if his father saw the feminine clothes he was wearing.

XXX

Lopez gulped and willed himself to stop pacing around his room. With determination, he looked at his phone. Then, he looked away and started to pace again.

Well, that was a pathetic showing.

For the past few _hours_ he had been trying to gather up the nerve to call Sheila and ask her out. And for the same amount of time he'd been pacing his room, thus leading his feet to, at first hurt, but then grow numb.

"Pendejo, you can do this. Pick up the telefono," he mumbled to himself.

The teen did as he had self-ordered, going over to his desk and flipping his cellphone open. He dialed the girl's number, which he had committed to memory when Donut had slipped it to him, and put the phone to his ear. He mentally cursed as he began to truly sweat. He was just glad she couldn't see him.

"Hello?" came the adorable, melodic voice of his amour.

"H-hola, Sheila…" he mumbled nervously.

"Oh! Hello, Lopez. How is everything?" she asked sweetly. Her voice almost made him melt wholly.

"Bien. I was, uh, wondering if you would like to, um, go out this Saturday…" Oh, Madre de Dios, his voice just cracked.

"Oh, um, I, I'd love to," the girl stumbled over her words, shocked that he would ask her out. On a _date_. Never mind that almost weekly she had someone or other doing the same. With him, though, it was different.

"Really? Um, how is eight?" he asked, amazed she had agreed. He didn't realize that he was practically grinning from ear-to-ear.

"That's fine," she replied, blushing furiously as a shy smile played upon her lips. They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Before Lopez had a chance to celebrate, though, there was a knock at his door and Sarge said, "Lopez, I need ya ta come down fer a minute. There's, uh, ah surprise visitor."

XXX

With a plop, the blonde fell onto the couch. He picked p a pillow and hugged it to his chest, laying his head in Simmons' lap. The older teen patted his head softly, reassuringly as Grif and Kerry walked in, the former removing oven mitts. While the girl wore a black and white checkered apron with a sunflower on the left breast, her brother's apron was burnt orange with the words "The FCC can kiss my A.S.S." in a bold red.

"Well, the meatloaf's in the oven. Donut, make sure Kerry doesn't screw things up; you know she sucks at cooking," he told them, taking off his apron.

"Hey!"

"Mm-hm…" the boy mumbled in reply as his cousin handed the girl his oven mitts and apron.

"I'm gonna take Simmons home. Try not to burn the meatloaf. Or the house," he added as an after thought.

"They're upstairs right now. Wouldn't it be funny if they got back together? After all, they say love for an ex is stronger than hate for a son," the small boy mumbled in mild hysteria. There was a brief silence, none sure of what to say.

"You know, all I want is a relationship like your guys'," Donut said suddenly, sitting up and turning to the couple, grip on the pillow tightening with one hand, the other dropping it altogether. "A relationship where I can always tell the person I love how much they mean to me and not care what others think. Because others don't matter. I just want to tell Caboose I love him, like you guys tell each other." There was another silence between the four friends for a minute. Then, surprisingly, Simons broke it.

"Donut, you know we don't have that kind of relationship, right?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Yeah," Grif jumped in. "We don't say all that lovey-dovey, mushy crap."

"I don't think we've ever said we loved each other." The younger teens looked at them in shocked confusion.

"But, then how did you guys become boyfriends?" Kerry asked.

"We had sex and it just kind of came together," Grif explained nonchalantly.

"Wait, so you guys never told each other…"

"Right," Simmons said.

"But, don't you guys _want_ to tell the other how much they mean to you?" Donut questioned.

"Uh, no. Not really," Grif replied.

"Last summer, you-"

"Wow, look at the time," Grif interrupted hurriedly. "I've got to get Simmons home. Wouldn't want daddy dearest worrying, now would we?"

"No, wait. Last summer-" Donut tired again.

"Spider."

"What! Where? Get it away from me!" the blonde shrieked in fright, scrambling up fully on the couch.

"Okay, let's go," the brunet said, trying to usher out his boyfriend. Unfortunately for him, it didn't work.

"Hold on, Grif. I want to hear this thing about last summer," Simmons said with unwavering determination. Kerry smiled knowingly.

"Snake," Grif said simply, using a similar tactic.

"Where?" the dark-haired teen asked, looking around wildly.

"False alarm. Well, okay, let's go," he replied quickly, going out the front door. The other boy had no choice but to follow.

They got into Grif's car and it started up with no problems. He breathed a sigh of relief then noticed Simmons looking expectedly at him.

"What?" he asked, backing out of the driveway.

"I want to know about whatever the hell happened last summer. The way you're avoiding it as if it was the plague means it has to be good," he reasoned with a smirk.

"Well too bad; I'm not telling you," Grif retorted, pertinacious.

"Ah, come on, Dex," he tried to cajole.

"N-no." Grif was glad it was so dark; the other teen couldn't see the blush creeping onto his face.

They drove the rest of the way to their destination much the same; Simmons tried dragging last summer out of him yet Grif held strong and revealed nothing. When they arrived, the brunet dropped the other boy of gratefully. Save for the fact that Simmons wouldn't give him a goodnight kiss.

"Aw, come on," he whined. "You were willing at the airport."

"That's only because we had an audience," he replied unyielding, smirk on his face.

"Exhibitionist!" Grif accused, grinning back at him.

"Shut up," Simmons laughed, getting out of the car and watching his boyfriend drive off.

When he went inside and entered the kitchen, he was greeted with an odd sight: Sarge, Lopez, and Sarge's sister-in-law sitting at the table. Lopez was being drilled by the woman, and he looked positively on edge. Sarge, on the other hand, seemed as if he wanted to either be hit with a bag of bricks or hit _her_ with a bag of bricks. Most likely he'd prefer the latter.

"Oh, um, hi, Aunt Susan…" he greeted awkwardly and startled at her presence. He shifted from foot-to-toot as she took him under scrutinizing gaze.

"And th' gay boy decides to show up," she announced. Sarge sighed heavily.

"Simmons, Susan here's dropped by fer a visit," he told his son, rubbing his temples as if it would make the whole situation untrue.

"Oh, that's…great…I see you recovered from your fall," he noted, trying to be pleasant and polite.

"You told them I had a fall?" the woman asked her brother-in-law incredulously.

"Yeah. Ya know, that fall off yer rocker," Sarge explained maliciously. As those two began to argue, Lopez stood and went over to Simmons.

"I blame you," he said.

"Why?"

"She's here because you're gay."

"Oh, joy," he said dryly. "Donut's mother is in town and now this one's here. It's a convention of homophobes." Both brothers looked at the squabbling adults.

"Maricones beware," Lopez mumbled. Simmons nodded grimly.

Finally, the two stopped arguing long enough for Susan to address her younger nephew. "You're a football player, Richard?" she asked.

"Uh, yes ma'am."

"A gay football player, how does that work?"

Simmons clenched his eyes shut. He could already tell it was going to be an _extremely_ long visit.

XXX

Doc, humming jovially to himself, opened up his freezer. Doing as the book instructed, he put them on ice, making a mental note to check back in forty-eight hours to make sure they were completely frozen to insure that O'Malley couldn't break free. (Not that his brain could process any thought beyond "She kissed me! Kerry kissed me!") Then, he would burn the crystals until they were heaps of sticky, melted goo.

Doc went to the bathroom, brushed and flossed his teeth, changed, and went to bed; he fell asleep instantly with a smile on his face.

In their dark, cold prison, the crystals shook. Like mist, an essence poured out of twin cracks in the crystals and mingled together. With a cackle, the mist-essence slipped through the slits of its box-like cell, going to the nearest available host.


	12. Chapter 11 You Really Don’t Know How Goo

**A/N: **Really long chapter titles this time. Hm. Sorry this didn't get posted up earlier; computer got unplugged, I'm sick, and yadda, yadda, yadda, you don't care.  
Mein Gott (Go random German)! I got a Best Rookie drama award! Bursting with happiness!  
Also, I might not update next Sunday because of finals. Sigh.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there's Grif/Simmons, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Ghosts, grumbling, breakfast, slash, het, alcohol, skipping class and school, uploading pictures, dreams/nightmares, bathrooms, pills, cursing, incest jokes, home movies, kisses, Boy Scouts, closets opening, phone calls, requests, storming out, remembering, cheerleading, practice, exhaustion, falling asleep with a friend, fedoras, violence and threats, shopping, demonstrations, and dodge ball.

Chapter 11  
You Really Don't Know How Good What You Have Is until You're Gone  
Or  
Those After-School-Special-Saturday-Morning-Cartoons Kind of People

Doc was on his bedroom floor in meditation form: cross-legged, eyes closed, hands in front of him palm up with his thumb and pointer finger touching. He was having a tough time concentrating, however, as a voice in his head didn't have the common decency keep quiet or even simply talk in whispers.

"I will destroy them all for their pa-the-tic attempts to rid themselves of me!" O'Malley vowed in a shout. Doc's eyebrow twitched.

"You will all rue the day you tried to thwart my delicious evilness! I will eat your insides and spit them out for you humans taste as horrible as Red Bull and Pepsi combined! Which is quite disgusting. But it will by victoriously disgusting!"

"That sounds painful," Doc finally commented, opening an eye. "You should try meditation. It's good to cleanse yourself of hatred. Take a chance to purify your soul," the teen suggested with a hint. "It sounds like you need it."

"Silence, fool!" the ghost commanded.

"A simple 'no' would have sufficed," the boy told him. "No need to be rude."

"What are you, my mother?"

"You're just cranky, aren't you?" Doc asked getting up; all hopes of squeezing in his morning meditation were shot. "A good breakfast will fix that right up!"

"Ugh, I much preferred Allison and that last girl," O'Malley grumbled to himself. "At least they weren't like an after school special or Saturday morning cartoon." Cheerfully humming and ignoring the spirit, Doc went to the kitchen to fix a healthy morning meal.

XXX

Simmons leaned up against the back of the bleachers and closed his eyes. Gingerly, he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease his pounding headache. Suffice to say, it wasn't working well.

"Hi, Simmons," a voice greeted from in front of him. The teen opened his eyes, ceasing his fruitless efforts, and watched as Donut came over to him, the usual bubbling hyperness not present in his steps.

"Skipping, I take it," he stated as the blonde stood next to him, leaning against the bleacher backs as well.

"It's strange to see you skipping class,' the smaller boy commented. Simmons shrugged.

"My aunt challenged my intelligence all last night, constantly drilling me with these numerous questions. Right now, I don't want to deal with the _only_ teacher who doesn't like me. And it's not because I'm a teacher's pet or kissass like Grif says," the older boy told him.

"Did you win?" Donut asked. "Get all the questions right, I mean."

"It's me. Of course I answered all the fucking questions correctly. I'm a fucking genius. Who didn't get any fucking sleep last night and is standing in the fucking below freezing temperature," was his response. He shivered slightly and slid down to the ground. Donut followed suit, laying his head against Simmons' shoulder.

"Woman like her and my mother is what turned me gay," the blonde mumbled into his shirt. Simmons gave a small chuckle, re-closing his eyes. In an instant, he was fast asleep.

XXX

Tucker took a sip from his bottle, warily watching Church chug his third beer. The smaller boy tossed that bottle aside and reached for another one. Tucker lowered his own beer bottle form his lips and shook his head.

"Dude, it's like ten o'clock in the morning," he told him.

"I know. Shome where in th' world, it's after s-i-x," Church slightly slurred, chugging his new bottle.

"Whatever, man," the taller boy conceded, leaning up against his wall. A finger played with the corner of his bed sheets as he asked, "So why are we here?"

"'Cause we're drinkin'," came the reply as if it were that obvious, that simple. In a way, physically, it was.

"I mean, _why_ are we drinking?" he clarified.

For a while, Church didn't respond. Tucker let him take his time, knowing not to push the other boy. He only watched, occasionally sipping some of his beer, as Church, who sat at the edge of the bed, stared without moving into his bottle. Then, suddenly, the boy let out a twisted laugh, the sound startling the darker teen.

Looking over at Tucker and grinning broadly he said, "I'm a fucking sucky-ass boyfriend." The other teen just nodded, unable to deny the truth. "I mean, sure she's cheated on me-a lot," he went on, moving so his head was in Tucker's lap. "But, man, I fucked you." He chose to leave out how he wouldn't mind doing it again, if he really thought about it.

"Yeah," Tucker agreed. "Also, you want to fuck Donut."

"What!"

"It's kinda obvious."

Mm. Well…" Church closed his eyes, mumbling something the boy whose lap he was currently in couldn't hear.

They staid like that for a while, Tucker not caring about the position they were in and church too drunk to. Then, the dark-skinned boy looked down at his friend.

"You're probably not gonna remember this, huh?" he asked.

"'Member what?"

"Exactly," Tucker answered with a snort, his hand going over and resting on Church's hip. The smaller boy was soon asleep.

XXX

"Today, the part of the assignment is to make a collage using your pictures and sentences. To make it sort of a story," Pillows explained. "Simple enough. It's due this Friday. Have fun." With that said, the students simultaneously turned and the noise went instantly to full blast as their teacher traveled to the back. She kneeled down in front of Grif and Simmons' desks.

"These kids make me need a smoke," she grumbled.

"Last night Donut begged to sleep in my room, and then Kerry had to, too," Grif griped, almost as if challenging her problems.

"My homophobic aunt came for a visit and still can't get over the fact that I'm a football player _and_ gay," Simmons complained, confident that he won that round of misery.

"Bravo," Pillows said with a small clap. "Drinks all around seem to be in order. If, you know, this wasn't a school. Oh, and I guess the whole you guys being minors doesn't help, either."

"Damn laws," Grif cursed.

"Drinking and smoking aren't good for you," Simmons told them warningly. Pillows raised an eyebrow and turned to Grif.

"He's like an after school special, isn't he?" The brunet chortled.

"If you think he's bad, you should listen to Donut preach the badness of drugs."

"I can only imagine." As those two laughed, Simmons glared at them both.

"Oh, yeah. That's so funny, you two," Simmons said as he crossed his arms. When they had their laughter under control, the women turned back to him.

"So when are you taking your man home to meet this aunt of yours?" she asked curiously.

"Um, I don't really think that's a good idea…"

"Ah, come on. You were willing to make-out with me in front of Helen," the brunet reminded.

"Grif! That was different."

"Ooh, now I _have_ to hear this one," Pillows said eagerly. She leaned in closer as Grif started to speak.

"Well, I had to pick up Donut's mom at the airport yesterday and all of a sudden, Simmons starts making out with me, only because she was watching," he told her smirking. She grinned widely.

"With tongue?"

"Oh, yeah. With tongue."

By now, Simmons had turned a hue of very bright red. His mouth was open in horrification as he stared at the others. Finally, clenching his mouth shut, he directed a fierce glare at his boyfriend.

"This is why I won't introduce you to her; my aunt would have a heart attack."

"And that's bad how, exactly?" Grif asked. Simmons contemplated this for a moment.

"…It'd be bad for Sarge," he replied.

"How?" Pillows questioned.

"Okay, it wouldn't be. But she has a husband and two kids." He blinked and thought his own words over. "Actually, I'd probably be doing the world a favor." The others nodded in agreement. "Still, it's probably not a good-"

"It's settled then; you're meeting his aunt," Pillows interrupted.

"Oh, I can't wait," Grif said with a mischievous smirk. "Maybe I can really freak Sarge out while I'm at it."

Simmons sighed, though there was an underline of humor to it. He shook his head, just glad that, for a few minutes, they had forgotten to be miserable over their troubles.

XXX

Tucker carefully took out his camera and its link. Inserting it into Junior, as he had named the camera, and the computer in front of him, he turned it on. On the screen popped up a file. He opened it, cursing his slow connection as he waited for it to fully load. When it finally did, he went through all the pictures until coming across the one he wanted. He saved it to a special folder, entitling it "TeCh hands". Afterwards, he unhooked Junior, turning the camera off.

Tucker went back to his room where Church still slept. He looked at the alarm clock; it read twelve o'clock even. He sat down at the edge of the bed, watching the smaller teen shift a bit in sleep. The dark skinned boy watched his chest rise and fall steadily.

Up. Down.

Up. Down.

Up. Down.

After a while, Tucker decided he'd go crazy with boredom (or something else he wasn't ready to admit). So, he got up and sat back down in front of his television. He turned on his X-box and the TV. He inserted Halo 2, figuring he'd play it all over again before the third in the series came out.

XXX

"So, Lopez, where are you taking Sheila?" Donut asked, brining his chocolate milk carton to his mouth.

"Huh?" Grif and Simmons asked together while the boy in question looked taken back.

"How do you know I asked her out?"

"Talked to Sheila," the blonde replied off-handedly.

"Wait, didn't you hate her?" Grif asked.

"That was before."

"Women," the brunet mumbled, shaking his head. Donut held up his middle finger, turning back to Lopez.

"So, where're you taking her?" he asked again.

"It had better be someplace romantic or you'll never get another date," Kerry advised. "Unless you just want random sex. I remember this one date…"

"Who touched you?" Grif demanded, outraged. Kerry rolled her eyes melodramatically.

"No one, thanks to you."

"It's my job." She stuck her tongue out at the boy, then went back to advising Lopez.

"Her favorite flowers are white tulips and forget-me-nots. You should get her some of each."

"I don't want your hel-"the senior began.

"Take her to a movie. She likes Sci-Fi and romantic comedies," Donut told him. Grif blinked.

"She's kina like you, Simmons."

"Oh, fuck you. I _some_what enjoy Six Days, Seven Nights and I'm suddenly a girl," he griped.

"Hey, I liked that movie," the blonde spoke up, Kerry nodding as well.

"Point exactly," Grif said.

"_Some_what, you goddamn cockbite." Grif just smirked. "Oh, go to hell."

"Does she like foreign films?" Lopez asked the youngest two, switching back to the original topic.

"Yup. Especially if they're French or Spanish," Donut told him.

"Gracias. You're still a huevón, though. But useful."

"Yup! You're welcome," Donut smiled, either impervious or oblivious to the insult. The older boy couldn't tell which, nor did he care.

He'd have to remember to check what movies were playing.

XXX

Andy tilted his gray fedora up and grinned at his cousin. The girl scowled at him, hands tightly balled into fists.

"You son. Of. A. _Bitch_," she snarled.

"Heh. Eh, ya know it's true, Tex," he sneered. "You're jealous that boy-toy of yours has his eyes on someone else. Hell, you're so jealous, you can't get over the fact that Church's skippin' with Tucker!"

Enraged, and needed an outlet, the girl brought a hand up and slammed her locker door shut. She received mild satisfaction at not only the loud clank it made, but also how Andy jumped back slightly, startled at her force. He was still grinning, though, and even let out a laugh. That only caused her to grow angrier.

Tex started walking, each step tense as she restrained herself, to her fifth period class; her fedora-wearing cousin was keeping pace, much to her chagrin. He kept on mocking her, ignoring the dangerous glint in her eyes. Oh, if only they weren't on school grounds surrounded by witnesses…

"Maybe keeping such a tight leash on him isn't doing too good," Andy told her, eyes sparkling with sadistic pleasure at the girl's expense.

Suddenly, however, the look in his eyes turned to startled apprehension as Tex's hand was around his throat and her other one steadying herself on the hard surface she had pushed him to. Andy realized then that he had been so preoccupied in taunting his cousin that he hadn't realized as she led him behind a pillar, no one able to see her actions.

Her face was an inch from his and she threatened, voice low and menacing, "Shut the hell up before I lose my temper." To emphasize what would happen, Tex applied a bit of pressure to Andy's neck, causing him to gasp for air. Coldly, she released him and walked off to her class.

Rubbing his now-sore neck, Andy watched her leave. She could get so damn _touchy_ sometimes. He at least had the good sense not to yell out that he could almost see where she tucked it, though.

XXX

"Okay, seriously Grif. We're on the same team; you don't need to hit me," Donut told him, hands on his hips and back unguarded to the other side of the gym.

"You elbowed me in the goddamn eye; I can hit you with as many balls as I want," the brunet retorted. Glaring at Simmons he added, "And don't even make another fucking incest joke out of that." The Dutch-Irish boy smirked as he threw a ball at the opposing team.

"Too easy."

"Well, Grif, it's not like it matters. You can't get me-" The sophomore was abruptly cut off as a ball hit him square in the back of the head, causing his mouth to fall open in astonishment.

"Princess, yer out!" Sarge yelled.

"Stupid dodge ball," the blonde boy grumbled, stomping to the sidelines. Grinning triumphantly, Grif sidestepped a ball and went over to Simmons, who was really into the game.

The two sides were worn thin, most players now on the benches. On their side it was just him, Simmons, and Brent-Ashley's boyfriend. The other team consisted of two freshmen, both named Sam.

Grif, however, couldn't care less. He was too busy staring at Simmons' ass. And who could blame him? Because, after all, he _was_ a horny seventeen-year-old boy whose hormones rivaled that of a rabbit in heat. Plus, he hadn't had sex in what he deemed far too long.

"Are you going to do anything productive or just gawk at my figure all day? Seriously, ogling me in front of my father is one thing, but in the middle of a game…" He shook his head good-naturedly, smile playing on his face as he ducked from an incoming ball.

"Work less than your ass," Grif replied.

"Glad to know you have your priorities straight," Simmons chuckled.

"Mm-hm."

The black haired teen bent down and scooped up two balls, then hurriedly threw them. They came close to hitting the Sam he was going one-one one with, but unfortunately he missed by a hair.

"Goddamn it," he cursed, wiping sweat off his brow.

Sweating, so damn hot… Oh, the things Grif wanted to do to him at that point. If only they were alone… And the damn finals were over.

Something caused Grif to look up, he wasn't sure what, and he saw a stray ball coming towards the unsuspecting Simmons. Thinking quickly, he kicked the other teen-poised to throw-in the ankle, making him stumble and fall in startlement, his own ball dropping out of his hands. Grif, though, being in the line of fire, got hit-straight in the eye.

"Ow! What is it with everything and everyone hitting me in a really painful spot?" the brunet questioned, clutching where he'd been struck.

"Than-" Simmons began. He didn't finish, however, for Grif was already walking to the sidelines. He shook his head, smiling, as eh got up before being a sitting duck cost him.

Grumbling to himself, Grif sat down on the bleachers next to his cousin. The blonde stuck his tongue out at him childishly.

"Serves you right," he told the older boy.

"Shut up, Donut."

"Grif," Sarge said.

"Yes? …Sir?" he mumbled uncaringly.

"I hate you," the man told him.

"Don't worry, I know," the brunet assured.

They all watched the game. It was getting extremely heated up. Suddenly, Brent and the Sam he was facing off hit each other with balls simultaneously, outing them both. They dragged themselves off the court, downcast. That left only a single player on each team.

"You know, Simmons is really hot when he's concentrating on something like that," Grif commented shamelessly. He glanced at Sarge, who looked about ready to explode.

"What did ya jus' say, Grif?" he demanded, setting him with an intense glare.

"I was just saying to myself how hot your son is," Grif replied off-handedly. Next to him, Donut seemed about ready to explode with laughter himself, counter to Sarge's frightening rage.

"Grif, drop down 'n' gimme thirty," he ordered, trying to stay calm.

"Wow, just thirty?" Grif asked incredulously.

"Fifty more," Sarge added on for the teen's smart mouth.

"Damn it," he swore, obeying the man.

Donut, feeling it safe, let out a laugh at his cousin's expense. Grif shot him a withering glare, pushing himself up then letting himself go down halfway, and repeating. After his fifth, shoddy, push up, Donut let out something between a giggle and snort.

"Come one, Grif! That form's terrible," he nit-picked. "Your butt's in the air like you're waiting for Simmons to come over and-" Sarge gave him an "I-dare-you" look, causing the blonde to gulp. "…Do nothing inappropriate?"

"Right ya are, Princess," the man congratulated. Donut let out a breath of relief.

Suddenly, there were whoops and hollers from their team-the other booing, hissing, and complaining. They gazed at the court where Simmons stood victoriously, having won the game by hitting Sam in the gut.

"Awesome…we won…Feel…partially…responsible…Can I…quit…now?" Grif panted in between going up and back down.

"No."

"Damn…it," he grunted.

XXX

"I'm going out with him this weekend," Sheila told Caboose delightedly as they walked to the parking lot, Tex having decided that she would drive them home.

"Well, Muffins and me'll have loads of fun together Saturday. _Alone_," the boy emphasized jealously. Then, he brightened up. "I a'ready got him a present."

"That's wonderful." The girl let out a sudden gasp. "Caboose! Do you think I should get Lopez a present, too? What would I get him?"

"Flowers and chocolate?" he offered.

"I'm not sure if he even likes chocolate, though," she said in a small, crestfallen voice. "I need to find _something_ for him."

"Ooh! I know," Caboose said. "You should call Muffins. He would know."

"Oh, thank you, Caboose!" Sheila exclaimed, throwing her arms around the taller boy. He beamed, glad to have been able to help her. Even if it did involve Lopez.

Sheila let go and they found Tex leaning coldly against her father's black pick-up. She seemed lost in thought as she scowled at thin air, her arms crossed, giving her a more dangerous look. As the two younger teens came over and invader her personal space, the duo snapped Tex out of her haze of thoughts.

"Hey. Get in," she ordered for a greeting, opening the door and sliding in the driver's seat.

Obeying and crawling into the truck, first Sheila followed by Caboose, the smaller girl asked, "Where is Andy?"

"If I had my way, dead," Tex replied with a slight growl to her words. She started the vehicle up and drove out of the school parking lot. The other teens decided it best not to push the subject.

XXX

"Okay, half the team thinks me and Kerry are sluts. They can kiss my pom-poms," Donut told the girls.

They stood like soldiers, all five of them, brave against the chilling weather. As well as against the coldness from the cheerleaders who weren't there-the ones who had taken Ashley's side.

"We don't need them," the blonde crusader went on. "We're tough, we're _good_. And we need to go on for the boys." Here, he motioned towards the field where the football players were practicing.

"You, of course, can back out form this war-and your duties-right now if you want." No one made any moves to leave. Donut gave his small army an approving smile and nod. "You're good cheerleaders, girls."

Over by the bench, Grif turned amusedly to his couch and told him, "Seriously, Sarge, you taught Donut too well."

"Boy, he's more of a man than you'll ever be," he replied. "Travis! Yer stance is all wrong! Fix it!"

"He's in a _skirt_."

"I know," Sarge said. "Why in Sam's hell are ya over here, anyways?"

"Probably 'cause I'm a 'lazy, insubordinate lolly-gagger'," came the teen's reply. The man started down at him.

"Boy, git on th' field," he ordered, an underlining threat evident in his voice. Grif heaved a sigh, yet obeyed; it wasn't wise to piss off your coach-slash-boyfriend's-father.

"So goddamn cold out here," he grumbled to himself. He cursed as a ball flew and hit him on the side of the face.

"Seriously, what the hell! I can't have _that_ much bad karma."

Still griping, he went over to Simmons and actually participated. Minus the vast majority of the time where he wistfully stared at Simmons' ass; the other boy just shook his head without bothering to say anything.

An hour later found the football team-all tired and worn-standing in a line in front of their coach.

"Sir?" one of the boys, Brent, asked. "Why are we practicing so long and hard since the season's over?" There was a murmur of agreeing complaints.

Sarge looked them all square in the eye and replied," Does anyone here have anythin' ta go home ta? Really go home ta?" All the boys fidgeted, none speaking up. "No one?" Again, silence. "Tha's what I figured.

"Okay, men. Since ya'll look ready ta pass out, I'm callin' it quits fer th' night. Go home an' git some rest," he dismissed.

The teens gratefully started back to their locker rooms to change and leave. The cheerleaders did the same. Meeting and stopping halfway on the field, Donut grabbed Lopez's arm. Kerry, Simmons, and Grif watched them with mild interest, stopping as well.

"I got a voice mail from Sheila. What do you want for Christmas?" Donut asked. Lopez blinked at the blonde.

"She wants…to get me something?" he questioned incredulously.

"Yup."

"Oh, tell her to get him Mexican cheese," Grif suggested. Lopez turned his head and glared at the younger boy. Before he had the chance to hit the brunet, however, Simmons did it for him.

"Grif, shut the hell up."

"Ow! Damn you Mexicans are violent," he muttered, rubbing his injured head.

"Goddamn it, Grif! Call me Mexican one more time and I'll make you into a eunuch," he threatened. Kerry, finding it all incredibly funny, fell to the ground in a tired heap of laughter. Donut went on talking.

"Take her out for dinner, a really good restaurant, and hand her flowers." Lopez nodded.

"Sí, sure. Right…"

"And a balloon, something blue." Lopez nodded again, taking down mental notes. "So, now you need to decide what _you_ want."

"Um…I…No sé," he replied with a clueless shrug. Donut rolled his baby blue eyes.

"Fine. I'll tell her something."

"What?" Donut just winked.

"It's a surprise." With that, he started skipping to the locker rooms. The others followed suit.

In the girl's locker room, Donut quickly got dressed before sneaking into the boy's locker room. Slyly, the blonde came up behind Simmons as he was putting up his helmet, beside him Grif removing his uniform. The blonde leaned towards the older boy's ear and stage whispered, "You should shower with Grif." Simmons jaw dropped instantly as the two cousins matched giant grins.

"Donut," Grif told him, "you have just earned the right to talk."

"Awesome!"

"I'm ignoring you both now," the freckled teen said, shaking his head.

"So," Grif asked, "why are you here?"

"Just for that," Donut replied.

"This is the _guys'_ locker room," he pointed out.

"So?"

"Well, you're obviously not a guy."

"Go to hell, Grif," Donut huffed, stomping out of there. Simmons chuckled as Grif smirked wide.

XXX

Sheila put down her book and picked up the phone. "Hello?" she asked into it.

"Hey, Sheila," Donut greeted from the other end.

"Oh, hello, Donut. I, um-"

"Called," he finished. "Sorry, practice ran late. I know _exactly_ what you should get Lopez." The blonde sounded so sure and smug that Sheila let out a relieved, unburdening sigh.

"Thank you, Donut."

"No prob," he said. Then, he told the older girl what to get.

"Really? You think he'll like it?"

"Of course," he assured. "I've gotta go. Later, Sheila."

"Goodbye, Donut. And thank you gain."

They hung up together and Sheila leaned back against her computer chair. She thought about where she could find Lopez's present. Deciding that later she would call Church and ask him to take her shopping, the girl went back to her book: Tanks, Inside and Out.

XXX

Donut hung up with Sheila as Grif pulled into the driveway.

"Dude, you actually told her to get him _that_?" he laughed. "Lopez'll kick your ass."

"He'll love it. More than Mexican cheese," was his retort.

"Hey, Lopez _likes_ cheese," the older boy defended as he turned off the car and all three got out.

The trio, laughing jovially, opened the front door and went inside the house. Helen was coming out of the kitchen, two drinks in hand, as the teenagers went past her. She stopped her son.

"Your father's in the living room; he came home from work early," she told him, eyes trailing disapprovingly over his tight hot pink shirt.

"I'll go change," the blonde said hurriedly, racing up the stairs. Kerry followed him while Grif eyed the woman.

"Why?" he questioned.

"Why what? Your uncle does get out of work early sometimes, believe it or not."

"No. I mean, why did you tell him? Why not let Rob see him in girl's clothes?" The woman let out a fatigued breath.

"Dexter," she said softly. "I'm not heartless." He didn't say anything and Helen continued. "Robert doesn't need to find out from me. When Franklin is ready, he will tell his father on his own. Besides," she added wishfully, "maybe he'll grow out of it before telling Robbie anything." Grif, still silent, watched as she walked into the living room.

XXX

Church's phone was going off, his ringtone filling the small room. Tucker paused the game and went over to the still-sleeping teen. He reached into the boy's pocket and took out his cellphone. The screen read: SHEILA.

"Hey, Sheila," he greeted, opening the phone and placing it next to his ear.

"Oh, hello, Tucker. Why are you answering Church's phone?" she asked.

"He's over at my place, asleep," he explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Could you tell him I called?" the younger girl requested.

"I'll just wake him," Tucker replied, ignoring her protests.

The teen put a hand on Church's shoulder and shook him, saying," Dude, get up. Sheila's on the phone for you."

Grumbling something undecipherable, the smaller boy's eyes opened groggily. For a moment he stared bemusedly at Tucker. Then, when the fuzzy events that had happened recently played in his mind and he made sense of what Tucker had said, he sat up and took the phone.

"Wha'?" he asked less-than-gracefully, voice a mumble.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," the girl on the other end began apologizing. Church stopped her.

"'S fine," he said. "Whadya need?"

"Oh, well, I was just wondering if you would take me to get a gift for Lopez." The boy could practically hear her blushing.

"Sure. I'll pick you up in a bit, 'kay?"

"Oh, if it isn't inconvenient for-"

"Yeah, be there in a bit," he interrupted, hanging up.

Church pocketed his phone and swung his feet over the side of Tucker's bed. He attempted to stand-then fell back onto the bed. A hand shot up instantly to his pounding head and he groaned.

"Dude, maybe you shouldn't drive," the other teen suggested. "I'll take you and Sheila wherever."

"No, 'm fine," the dark-brown haired boy protested, again trying to stand. This time he succeeded-before having to lean against Tucker for support.

"Yeah, it's pretty obvious you shouldn't drive."

"Shud up an' get in th' car," Church mumbled, glaring at his taller leaning post. Tucker just smirked.

XXX

Simmons was tired, starving, needed to do homework, badly wanted to study, and he desperately needed to pass out. Hm, repetition; he really _did_ need sleep.

Instead, he was seated at the table next to his brother and across from his aunt while Sarge was in the kitchen fixing them something to eat. For the past ten minutes the woman had been talking-and grating in both teenagers' nerves.

"Why did you choose to be… _that way_?" Susan asked, almost accusingly.

Through gritted teeth the younger boy answered, "I didn't choose; it just happened. And I'm _happy_ with who I am."

"You have a boyfriend, don'tcha?" she asked next.

"Yes."

"Are ya th' girl in th' relationship?" the woman pried. Then, before he could respond, she concluded, "That's it, ain't it? You want ta be a girl."

"No. no, I really don't. I like being male," Simmons told her with little patience left. Ignoring him, she turned to Lopez.

"Why don'tcha have a girlfriend?" Susan questioned. Under the table, the Mexican boy wrung his hands together.

"No sé…" he muttered embarrassedly. The woman gave a small huff.

"Well, as long as ya haven't chosen ta be gay," she said, giving a slight nod of approval. She turned back to her youngest nephew, her next words making him stiffen. "Why don'tcha leave tha' boyfriend o' yers an' find yerself a nice girl?"

"Because I don't really _like_ girls," he told her pointedly, trying not to lose his cool. His anger level was steadily rising.

"Is he really worth goin' ta hell fer?" Susan questioned softly, almost sounding genuinely worried for the boy's soul.

Simmons sprang to his feet quickly, unintentionally pushing back his chair forcibly and slamming his hands down hard on the table. He glared sharply at the stunned woman as he finally exploded.

"Goddamn it! I don't want to hear this shit! I'm gay and my boyfriend's bi; deal with it."

At this point, Sarge had come out of the kitchen to see what all the ruckus was. "Wha's goin'-"

Before he could finish, Simmons turned and stormed out the front door. He slammed it behind him roughly, rattling the entrance way so heavily that a picture hanging near the door fell off its hook.

Simmons, still seething, walked to the curb, cursing his lack of thinking to grab his jacket. His hand reached into his pocket and wrapped itself around his cellphone; at least he had sense enough to always carry _that_ with him.

The teen waited a minute, then took out the phone when it looked as if no one was going to come out after him. Shivering, he held down the "1" button until it started ringing. He held it up to his ear.

"Hey," Grif greeted.

"Dex, come pick me up," the smaller teen ordered. The brunet could sense the anger radiating from him.

"What's wrong?"

"Just pick me up," Simmons commanded again.

"Okay. I'll be there soon," he said.

They hung up and Simmons pocketed his phone. Rage mixing with apprehension and something he couldn't quite place, he sat down on the curb in front of his house. He placed his arms on his knees, almost defensively, and subconsciously started paying with the end of his sanguine colored shirt's long sleeves.

After several minutes, Simmons saw in the little artificial light there was Grif's car pulling into his street. As the car got nearer and started to brake, the boy rose from the ground. He went to the passenger's side and crawled in, not looking at the brunet nor acknowledging his concerned gaze.

"What's wrong?" he asked; though his voice changed little from its norm, Simmons could still hear the underlining worry.

"Susan just pissed me off. It's nothing," he replied, trying to be reassuring. It didn't help that he refused to look at Grif, opting instead to stare straight ahead at the dimly lit street.

Grif didn't push the matter and drove them to his house. The drive was stiflingly silent.

The brunet pulled into the driveway, parked the car, and both teens got out. Then, Grif watching the smaller boy warily from the corner of his eyes, they entered the house.

Inside, Robert was in the living room going over documents for work as Kerry, Donut, and Helen sat tensely at the kitchen table. It looked as if the woman had, unsurprisingly, said something to all at once infuriate, shame, sadden, and hurt the usually effervescent blonde.

"Hey, I'm back," the brunet announced, both he and Simmons taking a seat around the table.

"Hello, Dexter, Simmons," Helen greeted. She promptly turned back to her son. "All I asked was how is it that your father hasn't figured things out yet? There is absolutely no reason to get so angry."

"It's not like I actually see Dad, let-alone talk to him," Donut replied. "Besides, it's not _that_ easy to tell I'm gay."

For a minute there was utter silence building up to something, everyone staring at the boy. Then, the other three teens burst into laughter. The blonde crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

"Donut, you're the essence of gayness," Simmons told him.

"You make Peter Pan look straight!" Grif said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, Donut," Kerry pointed out, "you aren't exactly manly."

"Oh, fuck you guys."

"Franklin, honey, you do seem to be more…effeminate than when you were ten," Helen said. It was her turn to be on the receiving end of the room's occupant's looks.

"No, I think he's just like when he was ten…Only hornier," Grif told her. Then, he abruptly turned to his cousin. "Man, just tell him you're gay and get it over with."

"But…I, uh…" Donut stuttered. "What if he doesn't…you know, accept me?" I mean, it's not like things worked out will with her," he reminded, pointed to his mother who had the decency to shift discomfited in her seat.

"So?" Grif asked nonchalantly. "Does it really matter? I mean, even if Rob did react as badly as her," the woman fiddled her thumbs and averted her eyes from the blonde teenager, "I doubt he'd kick you out or anything."

"Well…"

"And if he does, you can always stay at my place," Simmons offered. Donut fidgeted.

"I don't know if…maybe it's not such a good idea," he mumbled, voice low. Grif rolled his eyes.

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll come out to him first," he bargained.

Grif got up and went to the front room, pulling Simmons along with him. The other three followed them.

"Hold on, I never agreed to this!" the dark haired boy protested. He was ignored. Grif, standing behind the couch, addressed his uncle.

"Hey, Uncle Rob. Got something' to tell you." The man turned around.

"Oh, hello, Richard. When did you get here?"

"When you weren't paying attention," Grif answered for him. "Which leaves you with a _broad_ range of time. Anyway, I'm bi and this is my boyfriend," he announced simply, presenting the smaller teen.

"I'm going to kill you for this," a blushing Simmons mumbled. The brunet nodded, smirking as his uncle just gawked at them.

"Need a demonstration?" he asked. "If you insist." In a flash he turned the other boy around and pressed their lips together headedly, pushing him so he was practically using the couch the couch as his only support. When they broke apart, Simmons almost forgot to be angry with him. Almost, of course, is never quite fully.

"Oh, I am so kicking your ass, Grif," he promised, face red. The other boy still had a smirk in place.

Donut looked at his older cousin in awe saying, "You just kissed your boyfriend like that in front of my dad. I wanna do that!"

"You're not touching Simmons," Grif told him protectively.

"I don't want him," Donut replied indignantly.

"Gee, thanks, I'm right here," the boy in question pointed out, still up against the couch. Robert hadn't as of yet moved.

"You know, if you think about it," Kerry mused, it could be taken that he wanted to do that with Grif." Donut and the rest stared at her, Simmons breaking into a grin.

"She made the incest joke, not me. So stop digging your jagged nails into my shoulders," Simmons requested.

"I'm pretending you're her," Grif muttered darkly, glaring at the younger girl.

"Wait, so you're imagining that your boyfriend is your sister? That can't be healthy-ow!" Kerry and Donut shared a few giggles before the boy spoke to his father.

"Um, dad…I, uh, have something to tell you, too." He took a deep breath, then gave a stretched smile. "I'm gay." They all looked expectedly at the man, awaiting his reaction. He looked back at his son with an unreadable expression. The ticking of the clock was loud in Donut's ears as his father finally opened his mouth to speak.

"I…guess it makes sense…"

"Wait, what?" the blonde questioned, perplexed.

"Well, remember Boy Scouts?" the man asked.

"Um…"

"Hold on, I have the tape."

Robert got up and went over to the entertainment system. He opened a cabinet and shifted through several dozen labeled home video tapes. Finally, he pulled out what he was looking for. He inserted it into the VCR and sat back down on the couch. The others watched the television screen with curiosity.

A younger Donut and Simmons were waving enthusiastically in their Boy Scout uniforms. The blonde's arm was thrown around the older boy's shoulders. He giggled, then gave the slightly taller boy a quick, chaste kiss on the lips.

"What. The. Fuck?" Grif mumbled in shock, eyes glued on the screen.

"I…I really don't remember that," Simmons said.

"Neither do I," Donut agreed.

"You…you kissed my boyfriend you sunuvabitch…"

"Well, you guys weren't together back then," the blonde said in his own defense.

"Donut?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to kill you."

"I should go now." Taking his own advice, Donut ran out of the room and up the stairs, Grif hot on his trail.

"I, um…I really don't…That wasn't…" Simmons stuttered, too flabbergasted for a coherent sentence.

"When was this shot?" Helen asked, turning to her husband and ignoring the teens.

"Just a bit after you left," the man replied.

"Oh," she simply said.

XXX

Tucker and Church looked incredulously at the girl. Sheila asked what was wrong and it took a moment for either boy to reply.

"You're seriously going to get him _that_?" Church asked astonished.

"Why wouldn't I?" the girl replied, looking down at the gift in question. Tucker shrugged.

"Whatever; you're the one going on a date with him, not us," he told her.

"What's wrong with this?"

"It's…I really don't know how to put it," Church said.

"Hilarious?" Tucker offered.

"Well, that, too." By this point, Sheila was looking nervously back-and-forth between the two boys and the gift in nestled delicately in her hands.

"What would you two suggest?" she asked. They shared a look and shrugged.

"It's fin, for Lopez. I guess," Church finally told her.

"Yeah," Tucker agreed. "I'm sure he'll…"

"It's the thought that counts, right?"

"Yeah, that's a good excuse."

Sheila sighed and turned, going to the checkout line. She knew Lopez would love the gift; he was the exact opposite of Church and Tucker. At least he didn't infuriate her beyond what she though possible. (And she just wanted to take a gun-preferably one large and heavy-and shoot those obnoxious smirks off their faces.)

Church's cellphone rang and he answered it. "'Lo?"

"Hi, Church. It's me," Doc said.

"What do you want?"

"Well, somehow O'Malley escaped his crystal prison, and my freezer, and sort of, well, is inside me now," he explained. The dark-brunet pinched the bridge of his nose as if in great mental anguish.

"If there is a god he must mock me at every turn." He took a deep, not-as-calming-as-he-hoped breath. "Okay, Doc, this is what we'll do: find some _other_ ritual for you."

"Thanks, Church."

"Whatever." He hung up and clenched his eyes shut for a moment.

"What was that all about?" Tucker asked.

"O'Malley is in Doc. I hate that ghost so damn much. He was ruining my relationship with Tex," he seethed in reply.

"And know _you'_re ruining it," the darker boy told him teasingly. Church just hit him upside the head.

XXX

The boy watched his father vehemently. The drunken man, half-empty beer bottle in his right hand, turned his head suddenly to the boy. His mouth opened wide, jaw seeming to widen as a snake's. An odd, ear-splitting hiss-scream filled the room.

Suddenly, the edges of the boy's vision faded, turning into a dark, tattered tapestry. His own mouth opened to let out a cry, but all he could manage was a piteous gasping sound as his father's long hand flung towards him.

Grif woke with a start, spring up in bed. He sat there for a minute, panting heavily, sweating as if it were summer, and trying to get his bearings. A hand ran though his hair and he tried to calm himself down. When he was somewhat successful, the teen slowly got out of bed.

He glanced at his tangled sheets and remembered that Simmons had decided to walk home sometime in the middle of the night. Grif had offered to drive him home, but Simmons had turned him down. There had been no chance to change the freckled teen's mind.

Head pounding as though he was being hit repeatedly in the same spot, Grif made his stumbling way to the bathroom thankfully just next to his bedroom door. He went in, not bothering to close the door, and opened the medicine cabinet.

He took out his bottle of painkillers, popping off the lid, and dumped half a dozen pills into his open and eager hand. He tilted his head back and swallowed them dry. Putting the bottle back into the medicine cabinet and moving it to its original position revealed the reflection of a blonde haired, blue-eyed boy behind him.

Without turning around Grif said, "You can come in, Donut."

The smaller boy did, going over to his cousin and placing a concerned hand on his arm. "You shouldn't pop so many pills," he warned.

"Not now," the brunet groaned, hand going to his still-pained head.

"It's that time of the year again, huh?" the smaller boy said nervously, going over and sitting on the bathtub's edge. Grif nodded solemnly.

"Yeah, it is," he confirmed, bitterness heavily lacing his words. Donut shifted awkwardly.

"You know, Christmas has never been a good time for our family, huh?" the blonde asked, eyes downcast.

"Nope. Hell, the people _in_ this family haven't been good for the rest of us," he added with a grim chuckle. The younger boy tired to smile at this, yet it came out twisted. Grif sighed.

"What are you doing up this late?" the older boy asked.

"What are _you_ doing up?" he challenged. "Nightmare?" the other boy didn't even feel the need to respond.

Grif sat down across from his cousin, back up against the small bathroom's sterile white-tiled wall. He closed his eyes, head leaning against the hard surface, and Donut watched him with fidgeting thoughts and hands. A moment like that later, Kerry walked in.

"Hi, guys," she greeted, usual chipperness not present.

The girl went over and sat next to her brother, taking one of his bigger hands into her own. She squeezed tightly and Donut just watched; the eldest didn't move.

"Happy anniversary, huh?" Kerry finally said in a meek tone of voice.

"Least we have each other," Donut pointed out. The other teens nodded. After a while, Grif squeezed Kerry's hand back. He cracked an eye open and gazed at the younger boy.

"You can come over here," Grif offered.

Donut got up and went over to his cousins. He sat down and leaned against both their chests that weren't too far apart.

"Our family's fucked up," Kerry commented after a while. Neither boy said differently.


	13. Chapter 12 Late Realizations Can Cost a

**A/N: **Yo, ya'll. Chapter twelve is finally here. Sorry for the extremely long wait.  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there's Grif/Simmons, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Slash, pasts, anniversaries, cursing, het, not listening, fathers, outfits, coffee, forgetting, insults, hell, annoying ghosts, family members, skipping class, finals, being a huggable blonde, questioning sexuality even though you know you like the guy and have even slept with him, bullshit meters, notes, cuddling, talks with teachers, subconscious, mantras that don't really work, not listening, incest jokes, and an annual routine.

Chapter 12

Late Realizations Can Cost a Lot  
Or  
Unanimous Sans One (Thirty Minutes of Hell)

"Okay, Doc. We found _another_ fucking ritual," Church told him, finger running up and down the side of his phone.

"Really? That's great news! How does this one work?"

"I have no fucking clue," he answered honestly.

"…Well, that's not very reassuring," Doc commented

"No, it's not," the other teen agreed unapologetically. "All I do know is that things won't be ready until Sunday afternoon."

"That long? But my date with Kerry is Saturday."

"Sucks for you," Church told him unsympathetically. "I've got to go. Bye." They hung up and Church pocketed his phone.

He ran a hand through his dark brown hair as he picked up his bookbag. He slung a strap over a shoulder and headed out to his car, taking out the keys. He looked up briefly, noting the light snowfall. Then he unlocked the door, got in, and turned the key after inserting it into the ignition.

XXX

Donut examined the bags under his eyes distastefully. At least they weren't as noticeable as his cousin's, though. He applied a bit of make-up to cover the proof of his sleeplessness. That down, and hearing sluggish approaching footsteps, he opened the door.

"Hey, Grif, how do you like…my…outfit…?" he trailed off, coming face-to-face with his stunned father.

"Well, that's um, new…" the man commented, taken aback. His eyes slowly absorbed his son's attire: tight, pink hip-hugging pants with white heart designs on them and a white baby-doll shirt with sparkling pink text on it reading "Huggable."

"Actually, it's all, like, a year old." He twirled around. "This is one of my fave shirts."

"R-right, um…Well…" Luckily, the man didn't need to form a coherent sentence as his nephew came walking by.

"Congratulations on looking more like a girl than Kerry," the brunet said with a laugh.

"Screw you. I don't have boobs."

"As far as I know...Or _want_ to know," Grif replied.

"Go to hell."

"See you there. I'll bring the cigarettes and marshmallows," he told the blonde.

"You smoke?" Robert asked. Grif nodded at his uncle.

"Yeah, for a while now." Before the man could say anything to that newly revealed piece of information, his niece came bounding over to them.

"Morning, everyone!" she greeted happily, ever the morning person.

"Hey, sis."

"Hi, Kerry."

"Good morning, Karen."

"I thought you were going to wear that shirt for your date with Caboose?" she asked. The blonde shrugged.

"Changed my mind. 'Sides, I do feel huggable today."

"Right. And on Saturday you'll be fuc-" Kerry started without really thinking.

"Hey, Dad, so why are you still here?' he interjected quickly, looking at the girl as if she'd lost her mind.

"I'm staying home today to talk with Helen," he answered. "Who is this 'Caboose'?"

"Oh, just some guy I met. What are you guys gonna do?" he tried to side-step the question.

"You're going on a…date with him?"

"Um, yup," Donut answered.

"They're going to his place, alone," Grif offered, smirking. Donut shot him a menacing glare.

"Stop it, Grif," he whined. The other boy just snickered.

"Don't worry, it's not like they'll have sex on the first date," Kerry assured. The blonde's jaw dropped as he turned a few shades darker than his pants.

"Gee, thanks guys," he mumbled when he found his voice. "Hey," Donut reminded, "you're going on a date with Doc. And you guys'll be alone together in a dark movie theatre." It was the girl's turn to blush lightly and be the center of attention.

"Who's Doc?" Robert was quick to question.

"Someone who better not touch my sister," Grif growled protectively.

"Leave him alone," Kerry demanded.

"If he lays one hand on you…"

"Wait, I want more information on these guys."

Suddenly, Helen's voice intruded on the conversation, startling them all, "Coffee's done if anyone wants any."

Robert nodded and thanked her, going downstairs. The younger two teens breathed twin sighs of relief, then set matching glares on Grif. Ignoring them, he followed his uncle to the kitchen, complaining about his intense need for strong black coffee with a large side of sugar. Helen gazed at the remaining tens in bemusement.

"Thanks, mom," Donut said with a smile, not realizing what he had called her.

"Yeah, thanks Aunt Helen," the girl echoed. Together they walked down as the others had.

"Hm," the woman mused out loud. "I always wondered what that would feel like." With a mixture of longing, sadness, and elation, the woman went down the stairs as well.

XXX

"Good morning," Sheila greeted as the two boys walked over to her.

"Hey, Sheila," Tucker said between a yawn while Church gave her a small wave and slight nod of head.

"You two seem as if you were up all night," the girl noted. Quickly, the boys stammered nervously.

"No! It's not like that!" Church denied.

"Yeah, uh, Tucker did it! Oh, goddamn it, Caboose," the dark skinned teen cursed.

"Right. So, um, nothing happened. Nope," the smaller boy continued. In his defense he told her, "I was still tipsy."

"It was totally innocent! And, uh, absolutely in no way implicating towards anything…" Tucker trailed off.

"What are you two talking about?" she asked.

"Er, nothing."

"Hm," Sheila said. "I think you made my bullshit meter explode."

"Well, uh, I've gotta get to class," Tucker told the girl less-than-smoothly. "Yup. Well, bye." With that he started to walk off hurriedly, Church following.

"Yeah, me too. See you, Sheila."

"Goodbye. Oh, and don't run into the-"

"Ow! Son of a bitch!"

"…trashcan," she finished. Bemusedly, the girl turned back to her locker and took out her Calculus book. As she shut the small door, Caboose came bounding over to her.

"Hi, Sheila!" he exclaimed cheerfully, waving wildly.

"Oh, hello, Caboose," she returned with a pleasant smile. "How are you doing?" Suddenly, the boy looked pleadingly at her.

"Church likes me better 'an Tucker, right?" he asked.

"Er, he likes you both equally," the girl replied carefully. She seemed to have said the right thing as Caboose's demeanor brightened up quickly and considerably.

"Okay," he said with a smile. "So did you get a pres-ent for Lopez?"

"Yes, I did. And a new-found hate for most men," she mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. I know he'll love it," she told him. The minute bell rang before Caboose had a chance to respond to that and with a farewell, they went to their classes.

XXX

"Hey, Dick," Grif mumbled, voice uncharacteristically low. He was looking away from the other boy who was taking out a text book from his locker.

"Hm?" he responded, curiosity peaked by the usage of his first name in a public place full of people.

"We have half-an-hour study session for first period, right?" The freckled teen made a sound of affirmation and the brunet looked up at him. "Wanna spend it out by the bleachers?"

Simmons considered the offer for a minute. It was tempting, and something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to accept the invitation. Yet finals started that day and he needed to make sure he aced them.

"Sorry, I really need the time to study," he finally told the taller boy. Grif did a good job of hiding it, but Simmons could tell he was disappointed.

"'Kay. See ya after class," he said. Then, Grif did a surprising thing; he kissed him. In public. Dexter Grif showed a sign of pure affection around people.

Simmons was too shocked to kiss back. Only when Grif removed his lips and stared walking off did the muteness wear off.

"Grif, what-"

"See ya," the brunet repeated without turning around. The minute bell rang and Simmons lost sight of the other boy in the crowd. Turning, he went to class.

XXX

"So, um, about what happened…Again," Church started as they walked into the classroom. Before Tucker could reply, their teacher ushered them to their seats.

"Now, everyone, this is a study period and should be treated as such," he instructed. "This is time for you to prepare. I want no talking. Understood?" None of the students decided to challenge him. "Good."

Tucker took out a blank sheet of notebook paper and scribbled quickly on it. He then passed it to Church. The teen read it. _Technically, I don't think we had sex. I mean, our pants were on when we woke up this time. Just undone._

The words caused Church to make a shocking revelation which he wrote down then passed back to Tucker.

_Oh my god, we cuddled! _the dark skinned boy read aghast. He hurriedly wrote a response.

_It would have been better if we had just had sex. _Church couldn't argue with that.

_Well, at least we didn't do both._

_Good point._

XXX

Simmons took the test as it was handed to him. He wrote his name, what period it was, and the date. After putting down the last, he paused. Something was bothering him about the numbers yet he couldn't place what.

Shaking it off, the teen went on to the questions. He answered the first one with ease, but something was still plaguing his mind. Something he couldn't recall that he knew was important.

After a minute he was able to concentrate long enough to read and answer the second and even third question. That _something_-he-couldn't-quite-place was still tugging at the back of his mind, however. And that was something he couldn't afford. So since he wouldn't be able to focus anyways, the boy decided to determine just what was so special about today.

The answer hit him like a club swung by a giant: it was the day Grif and Kerry's mother had left them.

Simmons felt lower than dirt. He should have remembered, and he should have gone with Grif behind the bleachers.

I'm the worst boyfriend ever, he though with a groan.

XXX

I'm the worst boyfriend ever, Church thought mildly to himself as he watched Tex try to explain to him and Caboose (mostly him) how the newest ritual worked. He was only vaguely listening to her, however, and she knew it and he knew she knew it. Or something like that.

"Do either of you idiots get this?"

"Yes. Wait, um, no," Caboose replied. The answer didn't surprise the girl.

"Church?" she asked. He was too lost in his thoughts to hear her. "Church. Church!" Tex yelled, mouth only inches from the boy's ear.

"Ah!" he yelped, jumping slightly in his seat. The brunette didn't know whether to laugh at him or be disgusted. She settled on a sneer and derisive roll of her eyes.

"What the hell, Tex?" Church questioned, turning to the girl.

"I fucking hate you two," she told him simply.

"What did I do?" Caboose asked with a small, confused pout.

"Actually it's what your parents did together that I'm mad at, Caboose," Tex replied.

"Huh?" he questioned, clueless.

"Never mind." To the other teen she said, "Next time you're not paying attention, I'll cut off one of your balls."

Unaffected by the less-than-idle threat he reminded, "You ripped both of them off and put them in a jar the day we met."

"True." Church sighed.

"Tex, I'm not in the mood to fight."

"Because you know I'll always win," she interjected.

"Truce?" he offered. "Just until after school. Then you can kick my ass all you want." She considered for a minute before nodding.

"Truce."

Well, at least he didn't have to deal with a bitchy Tex for a few more hours.

XXX

Grif was not in the mood to deal with anyone, let alone a boyfriend obsessed with perfection and good grades. (Actually, perfection and good grades went hand-in-hand, but the boy really didn't care at that point. Or ever, really.)

Grif walked into the classroom regardless; at least he had already finished his English assignment thanks to much prodding from Simmons. The brunet sat down in his usual seat next to aforementioned boyfriend with a plop. He stared straight ahead, paying no attention as the green eyed boy who opened his mouth as if to say something. He didn't get the chance, however, as the bell rang and their teacher walked in, going to the front of the room and leaning casually against her desk.

"Morning, everyone. So, it's the day before the last day of finals, you all have your assignments, and I'm sure you all know how you're going to spend your time. So, if I've ever cared what you do in this class, I care even less now. As you will," Pillows said with a small hand gesture.

Instantly, the majority of the students began to talk and goof around. She saw Grif, uncharacteristically somber, and Simmons, looking like a drowning kitten. The woman walked over to them, addressing the brunette.

"You planning on actually workin'?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Grif replied.

"Good. You're gonna do an errand for me," she told him. He groaned. "Here's a buck; go to the teacher's lounge and get me a soda."

"What kind?" he questioned, taking the money.

"Mountain Dew, because coffee doesn't have enough caffeine and sugar to erode my mouth just right."

Grif left to do as instructed and Pillows took his seat. She leaned back in the small, uncomfortable chair and propped her feet up on the desk.

"So," she wondered, "what's wrong with you two?" Simmons sighed.

"I'm a horrible person…" he mumbled.

"Did you kill someone?" Pillows asked.

"What? No-"

"Commit genocide, adultery, maim, brutally torture, rape, pillage or plunder?"

"No!" Simmons almost screeched, taken back by the sudden onslaught.

"Then you're not a horrible person," Pillows assured, giving him a soft look. The boy didn't say anything so, after a minute, she spoke again.

"Now tell me what's going on with the both of you." Simmons took a deep breath.

"Well, about six years ago _today_, Grif and Kerry's mother just abandoned them. They were all alone for a while until Helen, their mother's sister, found out and adopted them."

"This is the same woman who left her son because he's gay?" Pillows questioned. The freckled teen nodded solemnly.

"Same one." She whistled.

"Some family."

"You haven't heard the half of it," he told her with a snort.

"So, every anniversary does he get like this?" The teen gave another nod.

"Yeah, he does. He's still pretty pissed at being deserted like that by his own parents. Can't really blame him. And today, I just…I just forgot. Who the hell forgets something like that?" He looked at her, almost pleadingly, and she looked back understandingly.

"Not your fault," Pillows told him simply. "You've got a lot on your mind, what with finals and all."

Simmons opened his mouth, but before any words could be emitted Grif came back. He tossed the bottle of soda pop at his teacher who easily caught it. The woman got up with a word of thanks and the boy reclaimed his seat.

"I miss anything?" he asked.

"Nuthin' good," Pillows replied, opening the bottle and taking a long drink.

XXX

Tucker was not in one of his better moods. Being stuck in a lunch period with only Sheila and Andy, the latter pestering both of them about their love-or-lack-thereof lives, did not help.

"You know, Tucker, I'm sure Tex is gonna dump Church pretty soon; then you can make your move on 'im." The older boy banged his head against the cold table.

"Damn it, Andy, I don't like Church!" he denied. The younger teen turned to Sheila.

"What's your bullshit meter read?" he asked her.

"It's ninety-nine point ninety-eight percent sure he's lying, or just in denial," she replied with quick ease. The dark skinned boy groaned, once again hitting his head on the table.

"It's unanimous," Andy said with finality, "you like Church."

"I hate life now," the older boy moaned, pressing his forehead down roughly on the uncomfortable table.

"Heh. No problem, buddy," Andy chuckled, taking a perverse pleasure from the whole conversation.

"Don't worry, Tucker; I'm sure you have a chance with Church," Sheila told him comfortingly. The boy groaned for yet another time.

"Damn it, I don't like Church," he mumbled in repetition for what had to have been the hundredth time that hour. However, neither one was listening to him.

He really didn't need his friends to question his sexuality when he was already questioning it himself. Though, he wouldn't quite call it that. More like…_Oh, son of a _bitch

XXX

"This is the only final I think I might fail," Donut confided in his cousin as they walked into their Spanish class.

"Really? That's funny 'cause this is the only test I think I'm gonna do good in," Kerry replied.

They sat down just as the bell rang and the teacher immediately passed out their tests, telling them to start. Donut looked down at the sheet and cringed; everything was in Spanish. After skimming the wording, he let out the breath he'd been holding; he knew most of the words.

When everyone had finished their tests about an hour later, their teacher allowed them to talk. Donut and Kerry instantly turned to one another.

"That was easy," the girl bragged. The blonde nodded.

"Yeah, not too difficult," he agreed gratefully. Switching subjects he casually asked, "So, how's your day gone so far?" She shrugged off-handedly.

"Same as always, I guess." Donut, deciding his cousin wouldn't offer anything willingly, tried to cajole her.

"Nothing wrong?" She shook her head no. "Really?"

"Yeah, Donut, I'm fine." The girl gave him a smile, the one ha had come to call her "I'm-lying-and-need-help" smile; he could always tell when she was wearing it.

"Kerry-"

"How're you?" she asked before he could finish. The boy shrugged.

"Same as you and Grif, I guess."

After a few, awkward minutes the girl blurted out, "I mean, it's no big deal."

"What? Of course it is!" Donut argued, shocked at his cousin's words.

"It's not…It happened a long time ago," she mumbled, averting her eyes.

The blonde looked at the girl sadly. He laid a hand on her arm gently, at a loss of what to say.

The bell rang, and the students piled into the halls of the school. Donut got up first, binging Kerry to her feet after him. He led her to the cafeteria, forcing cheeriness into his voice as she spoke.

"Hey, we've got lunch with Lopez, right? Let's hint what we want for Christmas; there's still time for him to go shopping."

Kerry smiled at her cousin, and thought it was small he could tell she was appreciative for his attempts to cheer the both of them up. She nodded and they sat down at their usual table, eagerly awaiting the older boy's arrival.

XXX

Tucker's mantra was not working. To make him concentrate better on his test _or_ to reassure himself that he was, in no way, attracted to his best friend.

_I don't like Church. I don't like Church. I don't like Church. I like Church. I like Church. I like-oh, fuckberries._

Tucker let his head drop to the hard desk surface with a dull thud. That was just great; his subconscious was fucking with him. In the middle of an extremely difficult test. That he needed to pass in order to not fail the class.

Insert handclap-for-stupid-situations-that-suck here.

The dark skinned teen turned his head slightly so he could see Church, though Tex was mostly obstructed from his view. The smaller boy was staring down at his test, but didn't seem to actually _see_ it; he was staring past it, as much as one can stare past a solid object.

Church's right hand was propping up his head while the other was tapping his pencil eraser against his pouted out bottom lip. The expression on his face was a mixture of irritation, boredom, and obliviousness that only Church could pull off. And make it seem really, _really _hot.

_Bad brain; no thinking r-rated thoughts about our best friend. And you, stop enjoying it so much! _Tucker yelled in his mind, lifting his head so he could glare down between his legs.

He was pretty sure he wasn't going to do well on the test, or even finish it. Good thing there was always tomorrow.

XXX

"Grif, are you still alive?" Donut asked, waving a hand in front of the older boy's face.

"I can taste death," he mumbled in response. "Or maybe that's just blood. Yeah, that's blood."

"That's good; bleeding's a sign of life," the blonde told him in what was suppose to be a comforting manner.

"Donut, get the fuck away from him," Simmons ordered, pushing the smaller boy aside.

"Sheesh, you don't have to be so touch," he grumbled. "Jus' trying to look after my cousin."

"Grif, how bad does it hurt?" the freckled teen questioned, ignoring the blonde. The boy in question looked up at him, blinking a few dozen times. Then, he gave a small, very girlish (and in Simmons' opinion, Donut-esque) giggle.

"You're cute, both of you," the brunet said, voice dazed. Donut and Simmons exchanged worried and confused glances.

"Um, is he seeing double, or talking to me and you?" the younger teen asked unsurely.

"I…I honestly have no idea. For his sake, health wise-physically, I hope it's the incestual one," the green eyed boy answered. Donut gave a slight, grim nod.

"Yeah, incest is the best case scenario."

Turning to his father Simmons told him, "You really rattled his brains."

"Ah was under th' impression that he didn't have any," the man muttered. His son just looked at him in such a way that he could only give a heavy sigh. "Aw, don't look at me like that, boy. I didn't hit him _that_ hard."

"Sir, he's delusional," Simmons pointed out.

"And bleeding," Donut added.

"Fine. Th' two of ya c'n take him to th nurse," Sarge conceded, looking away stubbornly.

Simmons and Donut readily obeyed, pulling Grif to his feet and supporting him out of the gym. The brunet was able to stumbled along wherever they led hem, an arm slung around either teen's shoulders.

"You think I could shock him out of it?" Donut asked out of the blue.

"How?"

"I could kiss him" the blonde suggested. Simmons looked at him incredulously.

"Donut, he's my boyfriend. You are my boyfriend's cousin. I see several things wrong with that," he told the younger boy.

"I'unno, it's worked before. Remember?"

"Yeah, actually, I do," the dark haired teen replied with a grimace.

"Me, too," a female voice said from behind the trio, startling the boys.

"Ugh, those memories still burn in my mind," another voice, this one masculine, added with a shiver.

"Eep!" Donut squeaked. "Oh, hey Kerry, Lopez," he greeted once they stopped and looked back.

"'Sup?"

"Hola, niña."

"Where the hell did you come from?" Simmons demanded, heart racing at the sudden intrusion. The girl shrugged good-naturedly while the boy rolled his eyes.

"Blame my drunk ass dad for cajoling my mom to have unprotected sex with him again," she answered.

"…Goddamn that's a fucked up family," the Dutch-Irish teen commented after a minute.

"Yup. Glad I'm not part of it anymore. So, how's my brother?" Kerry asked, switching conversations. The boy in question mumbled something unintelligible and began to sway.

"That a sufficient answer?" Simmons replied dryly, working together with Donut to sit the bigger teen down comfortably on the floor.

"Yeah, that answers it alright."

Grif's eyes closed almost immediately, much to the others' delight. Exhaling his relief, Donut slumped against the wall, wiping sweat from his brow. Simmons followed suit, resting the side of his head on the semi-clean window. Lopez, meanwhile, observed them all in silence, standing juxtapose to the only girl in the group.

"Every year," Kerry commented, stretching as they all looked collectively at Grif.

"Mm-hm. It's amazing he doesn't have brain damage," Donut mused.

"Yet," Simmons added with a small snort.

"Maybe he already does," the Mexican teen muttered.

"Does Sarge always have to be this rough?" Kerry questioned. Simmons glanced at her in almost-humor, not bothering to answer her idealistic and naïve question. Neither did Donut nor Lopez.

After a while the blonde pointed out, "Hey, at least he's never had to go to the hospital."

"Oh, he's _had_ to, it's just that no one listens to me," Simmons corrected.

"Hey, my brother can take a lot," Kerry defended, pride for the boy full in her voice.

"Yeah, he can," Simmons greed admiringly.

Begrudgingly, Lopez said, "Not too bad, for a pendejo gringo."

"He can bounce back from _any_thing," Donut boasted. No one could argue with that; Dexter Grif was a strong guy.

XXX

"Hey, Church. I'm borrowing your car tomorrow," Tex told her shorter boyfriend.

"Huh? Why?" he questioned. Since their difference in height, Church would have had to look up in order to see her face; he was chest level with the girl.

"I need it to go to this guy who has what I need in order to get O'Malley out of Doc," she explained, looking down at his shaggy mop of hair in mind distaste.

"Okay, sure. Whatever," the dark haired boy agreed, complacent.

"Great, thanks. And, uh, Church?"

"Hm?"

"My eyes are up here," the girl told him with faux calmness.

"I know," he replied matter-of-factly.

When her fist connected with his jaw there was a loud pop.

Church let out a loud, _long_ expletive as he rubbed the wounded area gingerly. He didn't bother watching her as she left, hips swaying-angrily.

"Moody bitch," he muttered to himself as Tucker walked over.

"Dude, what did you say to her?" he asked, a laugh present in his tone.

"The wrong fuckin' thing," he answered.

"Apparently." Church raised his head and glared at the dark skinned boy who only grinned back at him.

Shaking his head, he turned and started walking to the parking lot, Tucker following. They were almost to his car when Caboose and Sheila caught up to them.

"Hello," the girl greeted softly, opposed to Caboose's loud and energetic, "Hi, guys!"

"'Sup."

"Yeah, hi, whatever."

"Oh, my. Church, your jaw is so red," Sheila noticed. "What happened?

"He sucks with women," Tucker said before Church could answer for himself.

"Tucker!"

"Oh, yes, he does. But I already knew that," Sheila said. "I mean, what did he do this time?"

"Goddamn it," he groaned, walking past them all and to his car.

Church reached into his jean pockets, producing nothing. Frantically, he started to search his crowded backpack for his keys. Sheila and Caboose, meanwhile, got to talking.

"So, Caboose," the girl asked, "what are you going to do on your date?"

While the boy pondered for a second, Church began to growl, emptying his pencil bag all over the ground. Tucker just leaned against the trunk, not paying attention to much in general as he watched Church.

"I'unno," Caboose finally replied, giving a helpless shrug for emphasis.

"Well, it's not as if you two can just make-out all night," Sheila commented.

"There's always sex," Tucker suggested, causing Church to blanch and almost drop his heavy math book.

Sheila started to say something about how crude he was and for Caboose not to listen to him. Tucker tuned her berating out, instead paying attention to his thoughts he wished he didn't have.

_I don't like Church. There's no way. I'm just…just…_

_Horny?_ a voice suggested.

_Yeah, that's it._

_Then why not imagine a girl?_

_Uh, well, I…Oh, god-fucking-cock-sucking-damn-it._

_Face it, dude, you like Church._

_No, I don't! _Tucker denied for what had to have been the second millionth time. _That would mean I was gay._

_Bi is a possibility, the voice pointed out._

_Still, I'm not._

Tucker ignored the little, know-it-all voice after that and went back to reality. Sheila and Caboose were still discussing Donut while Church hadn't found his keys yet. The smaller teen was seething, jaw clenched-an act which had to hurt considering the circumstances. The black teen knew he wasn't angry because of the keys.

"What. The. FUCKING. HELL!" a familiar voice yelled, silencing Caboose and Sheila.

Everyone turned to stare at the newly arrived Andy, startled. He looked worse-for-wear, and fuming. In his hand was his fedora, and his hair was sticking out at random ends.

"The fuck are you yelling about?" Church asked peeved.

"What did you do to Tex? Because for no good reason, she punched me and left without me."

"Why did I have to do something?" Church questioned, anger growing. "Ever stop to think that maybe you pissed her off yourself?"

"Not this time," they younger boy denied. "She already seemed pissed, so I left her the hell alone."

"That's new for you," the older boy commented derisively.

"Hey, I'm not an asshole," he protested. The others just looked at him.

"Uh, yeah you are," Tucker contradicted.

"Ah, fuck you, shisno," the freshman grumbled. "Since it was your dumbass fault I got ditched, you get to drive me home, Church."

"Yeah, whatever. Look, no one's going anywhere because I can't find my keys. Oh, and way to help me look for them, guys. Great job."

"Your keys? Oh, yeah. Here," And said, brandishing said objects. "Snatched them from ya earlier. Now let's go."

As Church took the keys mechanically, he stared up at the younger boy, eye twitching. He wasn't able to find suitable words for a good five minutes.

"Andy, I swear to God or whoever keeps fuckin' with me, I'm going to leave your ass somewhere in a ditch, half-dead but conscious enough to still feel pain," the brunet promised.

Church, after stuffing everything back into his schoolbag haphazardly, got up and unlocked the doors. He got in, the rest following suit; Tucker sat up front with him while the rest piled in the back.

"And don't make me fuckin' regret taking you all home," he warned, glaring at them through the rear view mirror.

"You already do," Tucker pointed out.

"Any more, I mean," he corrected. No one heeded his words.

XXX

"Hey, you coming back over to Grif's with me or not?" Simmons asked as they entered their own home. Lopez let out a stark laugh.

"Like I would willingly spend time with-" The boy was interrupted before he could finish as their aunt walking in from the kitchen.

"Oh, good, you boys are home. I was wonderin'… Boy, where are ya goin'?"

Lopez turned and walked right back out the front door and to his car; his brother smirked. Susan, hands on hips impatiently, watched him leave.

"Now, what was that all about?" Simmons snickered.

"Lesser of two evils," the teen answered. Quickly, not giving the woman a chance to reply, he requested, "Would you tell Sarge we won't be home tonight?"

"Sure, Richard. Where will ya be?"

"He knows," Simmons told her cryptically, much to her displeasure. "And he'd be more worried if we were home. Thanks."

The black haired teen ran up the stairs and to his room, depositing his bookbag carelessly on his bed. The boy then went back down the stairs, taking two at a time, and was out the door with a small goodbye to the woman. He opened the car door and slid in next to his brother.

With him in the car, Lopez turned the keys in the ignition and backed out of the driveway. The ride was mostly silent between the brothers, save for bickering over the elder's choice in music.

When Lopez reached their destination and parked, Simmons practically jumped out of the car and rushed to the door. He followed suit, at a much slower and less eager pace, as the freckled teen opened the front door and went in.

"Hey, guys," Simmons greeted. The Mexican brother only gave a small hand gesture.

"Hi, Simmons. Ooh, Lopez! You came!" the blonde exclaimed with obvious joy. Both he and Kerry went up and hugged him.

"Se odio," he mumbled unappreciative at their show of affection. "Now get off." They obliged as Grif walked down the stairs.

"Hey," he welcomed. "Rob and Helen went out someplace. Anyone up for popcorn and a movie?"

"Sure, it's not like actual food is that important," Simmons said.

"Course not. I'll go make the popcorn; you guys pick out a movie. And no chick flick," he called out, going to the kitchen. Simmons trailed after him while the remaining three argued over what they should watch.

Grif rummaged through the pantry in search of the popcorn bags, fully aware of the green eyes centered on him. A minute passed, the popcorn still being elusive, and the brunet turned his head slightly, molding his expression into a casual, careless one.

"Mind handing me a smoke?" he requested.

"It's a bad habit that's only going to ruin your body and kill you quicker," Simmons told him, obeying regardless.

"Yet you still get me them," Grif pointed out, grasping the popcorn box finally as he took the cigarette the smaller boy had graciously lit for him; he placed it between his lips.

"Hm."

"And I know why, too," Grif said with a smirk, going over so he was standing next to the freckled boy, an arm draping around his shoulders. The thought that it was because Simmons was still guilty flashed through their minds simultaneously. Instead of speaking that, however, the brunet said, "It's because you think it makes me look damn sexy."

Simmons rolled his eyes humorously, ordering, "Put the popcorn in."

Grif did so and, three minutes later when it was done, took the steaming bag out. They both went into the other room where the others were.

"So, what movie?" Grif asked, him and Simmons sitting down next to each other on the couch.

"The Breakfast Club," Donut answered, Kerry and him holding up said, very old video together.

"Just like every other year?" the older boy questioned.

"Well, it's the only one we have that we can all agree on. Unless, of course, _you_ have a problem," Kerry replied, giving him a look that promised pain and humiliation of the kind that only a little sister could give if he argued.

"No, it's a great movie," her brother assured, holding up his hands in resignation.

"Good," the girl said, all smiles now.

Donut took hold of the video tape and put it in the VCR. When it began playing, he sat between Kerry, who was next to her brother, and Lopez.

"And don't spend the whole movie making-out," Donut said. The couple didn't promise anything.

XXX

Tucker knocked on Tex's door, shifting from foot-to-foot nervously. Luckily, it was the girl who answered and not her younger cousin.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I have a proposition for you-it's something that will benefit the both of us," the boy quickly said. She eyed him for a moment before moving out of his way, allowing him passage in. Tucker followed as she led him to the privacy of her room.

"So, what is it?" the girl questioned, cutting to the chase.

"Well, as you've kinda already guessed, Church has a crush on someone else, and you need to take care of that because he's your boy toy."

"Yeah," she growled. "I noticed all right. What's that girl's name, Kerry?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah," Tucker answered. "What does she have to do with anything?"

"Well, isn't that the girl Church likes?" Tex snapped.

"What? No, he likes a guy. Her cousin Donut," the dark skinned boy cleared up.

"Him? You mean that blonde cheerleader Caboose is always going on about?"

"Yup."

The brunet let out a laugh, one full of good humor; Tucker was sure he'd never heard her laugh so purely and without malice or mock. She was actually laughing from shear amusement. When she collected herself, she wiped a laughter-tear from her dark eyes.

"Church has no chance," she said, almost relieved.

"Yeah, but it's still taking attention away from you," Tucker reminded.

"True," the female muttered darkly, sobering up. "And no one baits _my_ property like that, or I kill them. Twice." The dark skinned boy gulped, terrified at the malicious intent in her voice and threatening, dangerous glint on her face.

"P-please don't kill me," he begged. She raised a thin eyebrow.

"Why would I hurt you?" she questioned.

"Er, well, it's just that you seem pretty homicidal right now and I'm the closest person…" the boy lied, the words leaving his mouth before he actually had time to think about them.

"I wouldn't kill you, yet," Tex assured. "You're useful to me at the moment." None of that really comforted the boy. "Besides, I'd kill Andy first."

"Great…that's great," Tucker mumbled.

"So, what do you plan to do to get Church's mind off Donut?" the girl asked, getting back to what truly mattered.

"All you need to do is give Caboose good advice on how to woo Donut. I'll be 'setting the mood'," he explained, not passing up the chance to use air quotations.

"Simple enough. Yet, I can't imagine what's in it for you." Tucker gave an off-hand shrug.

"There's something," was all he offered.

XXX

While Grif and Simmons spent the night in the former's room and Donut bunked with Kerry, that left Lopez with two options: sleep in Donut's room, or his car. He chose option two, not quite trusting the blonde enough to sleep on his bed, and he hated sharing sleeping space with most people.

Lopez shifted, trying to warm himself up, and jabbed his knee on the steering wheel. The teen let out a curse in Spanish and rubbed the sore spot. His car was cold, cramped, and he could not get comfortable.

Ten minutes later found him going up the stairs to Donut's room. He heard his brother whisper from the other boy's room but didn't care enough to listen in, instead going in and trying to fall asleep.

In Grif's room, however, Simmons was not attempting to reach sleep. He felt guilty, no matter what his teacher had said. It was the first year he'd ever forgotten and he didn't know why-and that make him feel like scum.

Simmons turned so was facing the taller boy whose eyes were closed. He took a deep, silent breath before he whispered into the brunet's ear.

"Dex, let's have sex."

There was no response save the steady rise and fall of Grif's chest. Simmons watched for a moment, not believing he was really asleep.

"Dex, did you hear me? I. Want. Sex. Now," he added for good measure, propping himself up on one hand. There was still no answer.

"Fine, I give up. You _must_ be asleep, or I'd already be naked and so would you."

Simmons observed him for a minute more, then laid back down. Resting his head in the crook of the brunet's arm, he was asleep in moments.

Grif's eyes opened and he smirked at his boyfriend, pulling him closer. He leaned over and whispered faintly into the other boy's ear.

"For someone so intelligent, you're pretty damn dumb."

Grif closed his eyes again. His hand connected to the arm Simmons was using as a cushion settled on the small of the freckled boy's back. He found a comfortable spot, warm and beckoning him to dreamland, yet he still was not able to fall asleep for another half-hour.


	14. Chapter 13 Questions are Never Ending

**A/N: **Wow, sorry, guys. Really. I know this is late, and I actually do have some good reasons why. Garage sales and Driver's Ed being two of those reasons. But, I am however done with DE, and I passed, so my summer-what's left of it-is all clear.  
Also, the seventh Harry Potter book ruled my life for a few days. And I won a costume contest dressed as Professor Quirrel. I was the king, hell yes. Moving on:  
**Genre:** Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.  
**Pairings: **So far there's Grif/Simmons, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut. Plus, I think I might be hinting at Gary/Andy.  
**Rating: **T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.  
**Summary: **AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.  
**Warnings: **Slash, het, cursing, Spanish, Spanglish, English Assignments, visiting old acquaintances, threats, cars, rabbit analogies, hypothetical questions, partial nudity, finals ending, the start of winter break, Christmas trees, ornaments, new traditions, Andy's fedora that just looks really cool on him, sugar cookies, an annoying ghost, worrying, parents, a Rubik's Cube, glasses, fluff, foreplay, mild nudity, and people substituting the word love for something else.

Chapter 13  
Questions are Never Ending  
Or  
Cars and Daddies

It worried Donut that his parents had returned well after two in the morning. Two scenarios played though his mind back-to-back: either his father taking Helen's side and disowning him or Helen coming back to remarry Rob. Both made him bristle with fear.

Now, Donut was a forgiving person so he could handle the latter. Not to mention how much happier his father would be (which hurt him at the same time it made him glad). Yet, it had been six years…A lot of damage had been done in that time.

Donut shook his head, dirty blonde locks hitting his face wildly. He didn't need to think about things like that; it was the last day of finals, Christmas was coming up, and best of all he had a date tomorrow. There wasn't any _time _for worry. Besides, it wasn't as if his father was desperate or anything…

_Crap_, Donut groaned in his mind.

XXX

"So Tex is skipping on the last day of finals?" Tucker asked as Church parked the car.

"Only the first half, I think. She did all her finals yesterday, anyway. She said something about needing to be back by lunch. Also, I think she was yelling and-or threatening me. Can't be sure, wasn't paying attention," Church replied. He stifled a yawn as both got out of the car.

"Didn't get much sleep last night?"

"Never do. Tex came over at one in the morning," the smaller boy told him as they walked inside the school.

"Why?" Church looked at him pointedly.

"To pick up my car. Now what do you think she staid for?"

"Oh." The mocha skinned teen thought about making some half-hearted joke, but couldn't bring himself to put up that front so early in the morning.

They reached Church's locker. He opened it while Tucker leaned silently against the row of lockers. The other boy didn't seem to notice his withdrawal.

"See ya later, Tucker," Church said, closing his locker door and walking away.

"Yeah, see ya, man," the other boy mumbled before going the opposite way.

XXX

Tex got out of the car, slamming the door behind her and flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder in a single, fluid motion. She stared in disgust at the white-wash house, dreading that she'd have to walk in there.

Wrinkling her nose, the girl stepped onto the stoop and rang the doorbell. A second later her entreating entrance was answered and Tex stared into familiar dark blue eyes.

"Ah, Allison. I knew you'd come back to me eventually," the black haired male sneered, a British accent lacing his words.

"You're way off, Wyoming. Now cut the crap and let's get down to business," the girl said, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him inside none-too-gently.

Tex led him to his own living room, knowing the house well. She took hold of his wrist and, twisting it behind his back, forced him down on the couch. She paid no mind as a fourteen-year-old boy with short, natural-red-with-green-dyed-tips hair walked into the room.

"Hello, Tex. Knock, knock," the boy said in greeting.

"Not now, Gary," she replied impatiently through gritted teeth, eyes still trained on the older male who opened his mouth as if to say something. "And not a word from you, Wyoming." She took a calming breath before continuing.

"As I recall, you owe me a favor," Tex told the black haired one. She got a grin and faux forgetfulness in response.

"Really, now? I don't believe I recall."

"She's right," Gary spoke up. Wyoming shot him a glare.

"Oh, yes. Thank you for your help," he said dryly.

"You're welcome."

"Heh. See there? Now, you get to do _me_ a favor," Tex smirked.

"Yes, that's all very well, but I can't do anything right now," Wyoming told her.

"Well why the hell not?" she demanded.

"You seem to be straddling me and holding my arm to my back. Also, it seems so have gone numb."

Tex released him and took a few steps back. The black haired teen slowly brought his hand in front of him and rubbed it gingerly. After a minute, when feeling began to return, he looked up at the girl.

"What is it that you want, Allison?"

From her jacket pocket she pulled out a small book. She flipped it open to where her bookmark mark, a dark green ribbon, rested.

"I need these things, and I need them soon. You're the only one I can get them from," she told him, handing the book over. He skimmed through the two showing pages.

"Hm. Yes, I do believe I can get you everything you need, my dear Allison."

"Great. Thanks, Wyoming."

"Anything for you," he told her.

"Would you shoot yourself dead?" she asked quickly.

"Er, no, not that."

"For the better; I want that honor all to myself," Tex mused, lips forming a coy smile. He smiled in return, secretly thanking his god that he was still useful to the girl. Off to the side, Gary tried to get the brunette to play along with his knock-knock jokes.

XXX

Grif looked down at his English assignment, one portion in particular. It was the picture of him and Simmons climbing a tree, the required five sentences under it. Inconspicuously, he hid his smirk behind his hand as he read what he had written.

_When we first met, me and Simmons hit it off pretty well. We'd insult each other (that's what cause us to go by our last names-I kept calling him a dick and he kept mocking the fact that I shared a name with a cartoon character) and try to out do each other. _

_We both claimed this tree for ourselves, so to decide whose it was we had a race to the top. Since we ended up reaching the topmost branch at the same time, it became _our_ tree. In the years to come we pushed each other out of it, shoved its leaves down the other's throat, and a lot more harmful things. Also, it was where we both lost our virginity-under the tree, because Simmons wasn't too keen on in-a-tree sex._

"That would have been really awesome," Grif mumbled into his hand.

"What was that?" Simmons, sitting next to him, asked.

Removing his hand but not his smirk, the brunet replied, "Nothing."

"I doubt that," the green eyed teen said, eying him warily. At that instant the bell gave its shrill ring and Pillows entered the classroom, going to the front.

"Morning. You've got all hour to work on your finals. Turn them in whenever you want. Have fun, yadda yadda," the woman instructed, yawning when she was done.

When Grif and Simmons went up to do just that, along with a few other students, she asked the two, "Either of you good at poker?"

"Yeah," Grif replied. "I beat him all the time." He pointed a finger at the freckled teen.

"Oh, go to hell."

"Great, I'll get my deck," Pillows said eagerly, glad for a chance to do something remotely entertaining. The teens figured they might as well play; there wasn't much else better to do.

By the end of the hour Simmons had lost thirty dollars to each of the other two.

XXX

Church arrived at the lunch table to find Tex already there, her legs propped up on a chair. She lowered them to allow the boy to sit next to her. Tucker in turn sat next to him.

"So how was the trip?" Church asked, laying down his lunch tray.

"Got what we needed, no problem. Things are going smoothly and everything should even be ready a few hours earlier than planned," she answered as Caboose walked over, trailing Shelia.

"Oh, hello, Tex," the younger girl greeted.

"Hi, Tex!" Caboose enthusiastically exclaimed as both sat down side-by-side.

"Hey, guys," she returned. Before anymore could be said, Andy arrived, Trademark fedora on his head.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Here," Tex said, throwing a Rubik's Cube at her cousin, the only completed side all white. They boy caught it easily. "Gary says it's your turn to only get the greens or something."

"You went to see Gary without me?" Andy asked incredulously as he sat down next to the older girl.

"I didn't want you two making out the whole time," Tex told him with a roll of her gun smoke eyes.

"Hey, we're not Church and Tucker," he argued.

For that comment he received a milk cartoon colliding with the side of his head, the force making his fedora fall over his eyes. Pushing the hat back up, he looked around the table for the culprit, eyes stopping on Tucker; his tray was missing milk and there was a faux-innocent smile on his dark face.

Andy stuck up his middle finger while Tex and Church, ignoring them, discussed a few more details about the newest ritual. This one involved stones and some type of odd, almost glue-like substance Tex wouldn't elaborate on.

After finishing their conversation, the girl turned to Caboose and asked, "So, how's your relationship with Donut going? Need any advice on wooing girls?" The rest of the table, save for Tucker, looked at her as though she'd just announced she was considering joining a nunnery.

"Wait, are you being…helpful? To Caboose?" Church asked in flabbergastation. His girlfriend turned back to him.

"Well, he does kill your character in every game, no matter what team he's on. Also, I did call his boyfriend or whatever a girl."

"Oh, well that's acceptable." The rest of the table's occupants' eyes were going back-and-forth between the two.

"Church, are you trying to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"Of course not. I could never do that, Tex; you own my balls," he reminded dryly. The girl nodded, then turned again to Caboose.

"Anyways, so what are you doing for your date?" the boy shrugged cluelessly, still not knowing.

"Grand. I'm sure he'll have a lovely time."

"Thanks, Tex," Caboose beamed, oblivious to the sarcasm. Tex groaned, having to repeatedly tell herself that it was worth it as long as Church's full attention went back to her in the end. The things she did for…him.

XXX

"I'll be at lunch in a minute," Simmons told Grif, leaving his boyfriend to walk to their table alone.

Lopez was already there, head down on the table as he tried to ignore Donut and Kerry's babbling. Grif slid into his usual seat, announcing his presence with a loud and unapologetic yawn. He got an assortment of greetings, Lopez even raising his head in the slightest.

"Hey, cuz."

"'Sup, bro?"

"Hola, pendejo."

"Yeah, hi. And screw you, Lopez, 'cause I know that was an insult," the brunet replied.

"Hey, Grif? Can we get your opinion on something?" Kerry asked him.

Said teen leaned back in his seat, replying, "Are you actually going to listen to me?"

"You know my what-Donut-tells-me-is-yellow shirt with the mainly-shades-of-green butterfly?" He noticed how she side-stepped his own question with puzzling descriptions. "Well, I was gonna wear my bracelet with the matching green butterfly charm on it when I wear the shirt for my date with Doc, only I think I should wear the bracelet on my left wrist while Donut says I should have it on my right."

"It's more stylish," the dirty blonde cut in.

"What do you think?"

Grif blinked, taken aback by his sister's rapid mini-speech. And, honestly, he didn't really think it mattered one way or another. Nor did he know what shirt or bracelet she was talking about.

"Uh…" he said smartly. Luckily, he was saved from answering as Simmons came over, thick black-framed glasses on his face.

"Sorry, I had to switch out to these-my contacts were irritating my eyes," he explained, sitting down next to his boyfriend.

Quickly, before a new conversation could be struck up, Kerry launched into her mini-speech/question, this time directing it to the newcomer. Simmons blinked in much the same manner as Grif had.

"What does it even matter?" he questioned, mimicking the other boy's earlier thoughts. After giving twin eye-rolls, the two underclassmen turned to each other.

"These guys are clueless," Donut said. The girl nodded her head in agreement.

"Completely."

"You know, I was thinking and maybe you're right. You should wear the bracelet on the left. Now, how should I do my hair?"

"What are you planning to wear?"

As those two went on like that, Simmons took out a text book as his brother whipped out a book on mechanics; Grif all-the-while watched the former. The freckled teen didn't mind, being used to the brunet's eyes on him as he read.

Abruptly, Simmons felt a weight lifted from his face and the book before him blurred terribly, like static-snow on a television screen. He turned to Grif, only barely able to make out his form as he put on the thick glasses himself.

"Give those back, cockbite. I can't see anything."

"Goddamn you're blind," the other boy noted, blatantly ignoring the command. He did take them off, though held the glasses close to his eyes.

"Like a bat. Now give them back." Grif gave an involuntary shudder.

"I'd never compare you to a bat in anyway. Bats I hate. You I-" he have a slight, barely noticeable pause. He considered using the word "love", but instead what came out was, "like."

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me the fucking glasses," Simmons ordered again, ignorant to the hesitation.

Grif, deciding to comply, leaned over and placed aforementioned glasses back on the smaller boy's face. Simmons blinked, eyes adapting to the instant difference, and adjusted the glasses until his head wasn't throbbing.

"Thank you," he said, going back to studying. Grif watched him read again, ignoring his thoughts on the half-smile he was giving.

XXX

"Tucker," a soft, feminine voice said. The boy in question turned and saw Sheila catching up to him.

"Hey," he greeted. She moved faster to keep up with Tucker's longer strides as she walked alongside him.

"How are you feeling?" the girl asked.

"'Mfine. Why?"

"You don't seem quite…yourself today," Sheila explained delicately. Tucker looked away from her before speaking again.

"I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind."

"If something's troubling you, Tucker, don't hesitate to talk to us, your friends. We're here for you."

The boy was going to remark on how cliché and so much like a cheesy teen drama she sounded like; upon glancing at Sheila and seeing the concern written across her face he bit his tongue.

"It's no big deal," he mumbled instead. Again his eyes turned away from the younger girl.

"Tucker, this is about Church, isn't it?" she asked after a small bout of silence. Against his will he tensed, and Sheila noticed.

"No," he lied, knowing he would be believed but hoping she wouldn't question him further regardless.

"It is what's bothering you, Tucker. It's obvious," the underclassman told him.

"What?" Now he did look at her, taken aback.

"You kept staring at him and Tex during lunch. Your jealousy was almost visible," the girl explained. Tucker was grateful that his dark skin hid the blush creeping onto his features relatively well.

"Listen, Sheila, nothing's…nothing's goin' on between me an' church," he said at last, proud that his voice barely shook.

"I didn't say there was," she pointed out. "Goodbye, Tucker, and good luck. You know, with finals," Sheila said, walking into her classroom.

For what seemed a frozen second the mocha skinned teen stood there, staring at where the girl had been. Then the minute bell rang, breaking his thoughts as it warned him to get to his own class.

XXX

Grif, out of breath, went over to the sidelines where Simmons and Donut were. He sat down, exhausted, ignoring the two pairs of green and blue eyes on him.

"You know what I don't understand?" the blonde asked.

"How he can be so out of shape yet he's in a sport and participates in gym each day?" the freckled teen offered.

"Fuck…I can taste my heart…you guys…" the tannest of the three panted, putting a different sentence in the middle of his first.

"Yuck. Hearts are all bloody; blood tastes disgusting," Donut commented, wrinkling his nose in offense.

Sardonically Simmons retorted, "Great insight, Donut."

Thanks." Simmons just shook his head as he went to take his turn. The other two watched half in awe as the boy did chin-ups.

"He's really good, huh?" the blonde spoke after a minute. Grif made a non-committing sound in the back of his throat. "Brains _and_ brawns. How do _you_ get the great guy?"

From the corner of his eye the older teen gave him an agitated glare. "Don't you ever shut up?"

"I mean, I'm not saying you're not a great guy yourself-but you're just not… You really don't seem like Simmons' type," the blonde went on, oblivious to his cousin's look.

"Donut," he growled, eyes clenched shut, "if you don't stop talking now, I am going to strangle you with piano wire."

"Do we even know anyone with a piano?" the smaller boy enquired curiously. "Anyway, all I'm saying is that he seems like the guy who would prefer…"

"What?" Grif urged, half annoyed, half intrigued as the younger boy trailed off.

"You know, someone who actually…applies himself," Donut finished.

Grif had no chance to retort as the teen they were discussing came back over and Donut left to take his turn. The brunet set his eyes on his cousin, not looking at Simmons.

"Well, this should be interesting. I doubt Donut'll be able to do ten chin-ups," the black haired one said with a chuckle.

"Not even one," Grif laughed.

They watched together as the small blonde tried his hardest; all the while Grif never glanced at Simmons.

XXX

"Caboose!" Tex called out, catching up to the boy.

"Hi, Tex," he greeted. They started walking together.

"Because it's you, I know you need advice with Donut," she said, cutting to the chase right off the bat.

"Um…"

"Shut up. Now, you probably still don't know what you guys are going to do," the girl guessed.

"Uh-"

"Listen, jumping into sex on the first date is _never_ good for the relationship," she informed.

"But didn't you an' Church have sex on your first date?" the slightly taller teen questioned.

"And before. Which is exactly my point," she replied. Caboose blinked at her, bewildered.

"But-"

"No more questions," Tex interjected. "Listen, just call me whenever you need girl-er, boyfriend advice, alright?" He nodded obediently, giving her a wide smile.

"Good. Oh," she added as an afterthought, "and don't trust anything Andy, Tucker, or Church tell you. They're horrible at relationships. Especially Church. Also, Andy. You know what, all three are bad at relationships."

"Um, okay…"

"Well, see you, Caboose," Tex said in farewell, turning and leaving with a half-wave.

"Thanks, Tex. Bye, very scary and confusing lady," the boy replied, going to his own current class.

XXX

Donut, his cousins, and Lopez stood by the entrance of the school. The final bell had wrung, signaling the much awaited for end of finals.

"Damn it, what's taking him so long?" Grif wondered out loud even though he knew the others were as clueless as him. Kerry and Donut looked at each other, then gave twin eye rolls.

"Sigh. You always get so impatient and crabby without your daily dose of sex three times a day," the dirty blonde commented.

The older boy, growling, advanced a step towards the smaller boy as if to do him serious harm. He was stopped, however, by Simmons coming over. He grabbed Grif's arm and started dragging him away, speaking rapidly.

"Hihavetogoimportanthtingstodobye."

Eagerly, Grif let himself be led to his car. The other three watched them go, laughing. Then, a thought suddenly hit Kerry.

"Wait, how are we supposed to get home?"

"Lopez has a car," the taller of the leaving couple pointed out as if he couldn't care less.

Narrowing his dark eyes the Mexican boy cursed, "Hijos des putas." The remaining two looked at him expectedly. "Fine. Just get in the car and don't open your mouths," he instructed.

"Boy scouts honor that we'll only speak in Spanish," Donut promised with a wide grin. Kerry nodded and both held up their hands in the appropriate sign. Lopez groaned.

XXX

Doc tried to concentrate on the road instead of the ghost plotting deviously in the back of his head. It was hard, as O'Malley had been going on and on all day even when he was taking finals, but still Doc tried.

"And then I shall have the survivors erect a statue depicting my rise and humanity's fall!" There was a maniacal, ear-grating laugh to add emphasis to the dastardly words.

"You know I can hear your plans, right?" Doc asked.

"Quiet, you dolt. There's nothing you can do to stop me," O'Malley replied.

"Maybe if you just talked about your feelings you wouldn't be so mean and angry," the teen said, parking in his drive way. As he got out of the car and unlocked the door O'Malley made sounds of disgust.

"You are pitiful. I cannot wait until I completely erode your mind and take over your body fully,' the spirit told him as Doc entered his house.

"Wait, what?"

"Er, nothing. Don't worry your naïve little head over it," O'Malley covered up.

Doc shod said head good-naturedly, dropping his book bag by the door and hanging up his coat. He then waked into the living room, laying his keys on the table; he paid no mind as O'Malley's transparent form materialized next to him.

"Really, though," the human said after a minute, "you just have a lot of pent up emotions. I'm sure you just need an outlet."

"I could blow up the world," the spirit muttered darkly.

Ignoring him, Doc walked into the kitchen and scoured the cabinets for hot cocoa. "Remember, I'm always up for meditating with you," the boy offered, finding a box and taking it out.

"Ugh. You give me a headache," O'Malley moaned. Doc blinked in confusion.

"Can ghosts get headaches?" he asked.

"If I wasn't already dead, your incessant chatter would have killed me by now," the spirit said in retort. Doc again ignored him, starting to brew the warm drink.

XXX

Grif planted a longing kiss on Simmons, hands busy trailing his naked chest. The smaller boy moaned into Grif's mouth, causing the other one to grin.

The freckled teen dug his nails into Grif's hip as the boy above him rubbed a knee against his clothes crotch. He let out a whimper which soon turned into another moan as Grif removed his lips and started kissing his collarbone frantically.

"Dex…how long until…Sarge gets home?" Simmons managed to ask though pants. The other teen glanced at his watch before grinning down at Simmons.

"Twenty minutes. We have plenty of time," he assured, a hand trailing down his pale stomach. His grin widened at the shiver he invoked.

Grif fucking _loved_ foreplay, and Simmons reacted so well.

A few minutes passed with Grif teasing Simmons, hands and tongues playing with his nipples. Below Grif, Simmons could barely think as he arched his back, withered, and made sounds of pleasure, some akin to a purr not unlike an ecstatic cat.

Soon, however, Simmons felt a sudden draft of cold air. Befuddled and unable in his current state to fathom _why_ it was now freezing (yet his partner had yet to realize it), he peeked past Grif's shoulder.

The brunet felt his boyfriend stiffen under him. He lifted his head and looked down at Simmons' horror-stricken face in wonderment. His lips parted as if to speak; the words died on his tongue, though, as he turned his head to where Sarge was standing at the open car door.

Quickly, Grif snapped his head back around and hiss-whispered to Simmons, "Don't move. He's like a t-rex; they only see movement."

"Grif," the man growled. Said boy hung his head and sighed.

"What was that about twenty minutes?" Simmons asked almost accusingly. Grif examined his watch.

"Oh, look at that. My watch stopped. Isn't that tastic-fucking-fan?"

"Um, wrong order, Grif."

"Does that really matter at this point?"

"I suppose not…" Simmons agreed honestly.

"Grif," Sarge said again, breaking the teenagers' side conversation.

"Yes, sir?" the boy answered tentatively, betting that if he were to look at the man directly in the eyes, flames would shoot out and roast him like a Christmas ham.

"Git offa mah son."

"Right." He was about to obey when the smaller boy halted him.

"Er, let's put our shirts back on first," he suggested wisely.

"Right."

Grif bent down and picked up both shirts, handing one to his boyfriend without really looking at them. Hastily they redressed, then got out of the car; Sarge's cold eyes were on the two all throughout.

"Wait, why is this shirt tight?" Grif asked before looking down. "Crap, it's yours."

"Damn it, it's not _that_ small," Simmons snapped.

"Dude, seriously. You've got a huge one," Grif told him. "I don't think you need to reclaim un-lost dignity or whatever."

"Grif, my father. Is. Right. There," the freckled teen pointed out.

"Oh, yeah…" He turned to the man. "Um, I'm sure he inherited it from you?" he tried.

"I'm adopted, jackass," Simmons reminded.

All the other boy could think of to say after a long beat of silence was, "…Awkward."

Through his hands that now covered his face, Simmons groaned and said, "Congratulations, Grif; you've just won the award for 'Biggest Fucking Idiot of the Year'."

"Yeah, I should probably go now, huh?"

"Yes," Sarge growled in response.

"Right," the tanned teen mumbled. He rounded the corner of his car and got into the driver's seat; they could switch shirts later. With a fast goodbye to his boyfriend, he drove off.

"I'll, um, be in my room," Simmons stammered once Grif was gone, trying not to gulp. Sarge didn't reply and the boy hurried inside.

Briefly Simmons wondered why the world was so blurry. Then it occurred to him that his glasses were still in Grif's backseat. He cursed, ignoring his aunt as she started to ask what had taken so long in getting home from school.

XXX

Grif, having removed Simmons' shirt and exchanged it for a stripped sweater his boyfriend hat gotten him, stared up at his ceiling. He was silently cursing himself for his stupid comments and general idiodicy. Also, that damn watch for stopping.

And that was supposed to be goodbye-until-later-that-night sex, too.

The teen was broken out of his grumbling thoughts by a knock on the door. After saying, "Come in," the door swung open, revealing his too-chipper-for-his-liking cousin.

"Grif, come on. It's time to put up the Christmas tree," Donut told him. "Me and Kerry both broke nails dragging the box down from the attic."

"It's a tragedy," the older boy mocked. "I'll alert the media."

"You're an asshole." His cousin gave a confirming nod and the boy continued. "The quicker we get the tree up, the quicker we make cookies, and the quicker you can hurry upstairs with Simmons in tow and show him a holly-jolly good time."

"That was singularly the most disturbing yet intelligent thing you've said all day. Be down in a minute."

"Okay," Donut replied, smiling broadly.

Closing the door behind him, the boy made his way downstairs. He hummed a Christmas tune underneath his breath as he walked into the living room where his female cousin was, taking parts of the tree out of the long box. He went over and kneeled beside her.

"Ugh, I can't get this stupid thing together at all," the girl complained.

"That's what we have Grif for-manual labor."

"Is he coming down anytime this year?"

"He might be waiting for the next ice age," Donut quipped. "I think it's already here," Kerry said with a shiver.

"Definitely," the boy agreed. "We should get Grif to build a fire later."

"That sounds good," Kerry said, unloading the rest of the box.

At that moment, Helen waked downstairs and into the room. She eyed the duo curiously, going towards them but stopping at the couch edge.

"You're putting up the Christmas tree today?" she asked, thinking back to years far gone when they would put all the decorations up on Christmas Eve.

Remembering as well, donut swallowed the lump forming in his throat before it could grow too big. He craned his neck so he could see the woman as he told her, "Yeah; new tradition since…about six years ago."

The simple words were worse than if her son had just slapped her across the face.

Helen nonchalantly, outwardly, looked away with an, "Oh." A spot on the wall seemed quite interesting right then.

Likewise, Donut faced forwards. Suddenly, the carpet was fascinating with its one, unchanging color and little weaves.

XXX

"For some reason," Tex whispered into Church's ear, "I want you so badly. Right. Now."

She nipped at his ear, pushing him down on the bed. Straddling his hips, the girl pressed their mouths together. Tex was fast to pry his lips apart, tongue darting in and making him moan in pleasure.

Church wondered why it turned him on to have people dominate him. The question left his mind, however, as Tex ran a hand up his shirt and went for his nipples.

From the front room, there was the sound of the door slamming shut and loud arguing, breaking the couple's passion.

"Goddamn it, I'll kill them," Church promised as the girl got off of him.

"Not if I get them first," Tex growled, smoothing down her shirt.

The two got up and went to the source of the noise. By the entrance stood their friends, who soon would be murdered.

"Oh, you guys are early," Tex noted dryly. "Wonderful."

"Did we interrupt anything?" Sheila asked apologetically, the boys arguing behind her.

"I am going to set you all on fire as you're bound on train tracks," Tex murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Let's go mix the ingredients," the older girl said, distracting Sheila. They left for the kitchen.

"What the hell are you three arguing about?" Church asked, more irritated than interested. Andy pointed accusingly at Tucker.

"The sunuvabitch touched my fedora," he griped.

"For the last time, caboose ran into me. It was an accident you little cry baby," Tucker told them for what had to be the hundredth time.

"You stopped walkin' right in front of me!" Caboose defended.

"Dear sadist-God, I have children," Church groaned into his hands.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Tex poured an off-white, gooey substance into a bowl. That done, she grabbed a wooden spoon and handed it to the younger girl.

"Stir clockwise," she instructed, taking out another bowl and repeating. Bringing over her own spoon, Tex did as Sheila was doing. Suffice to say, it was a difficult task.

"Is this lethal?" the younger girl asked, a bubble popping in her bowl.

"You know, it could be," the brunette answered casually. The smaller girl looked down at her bowl's contents nervously.

"I…I see," she gulped.

They did their job in silence for a bit, the only noise being the boys' yelling and the spoon hitting the sides as they had to force its movement through the thick substance. After a while Sheila spoke, shattering the quietude.

"So, how is your relationship with Church?"

"Fine. Why?" Tex replied curtly, not liking where things were about to go.

"I was just curious," Sheila told her innocently. "It's just that you're having me help you instead of him." Tex sighed.

"They're all incompetent." The younger girl couldn't deny that.

"True. But that's not the point."

"Then what is, Sheila?" Tex practically growled. Used to her anger and irate nature, Sheila didn't flinch.

"Are you two happy together?" she asked softly. The answer was almost instant.

"Yes."

"So you two are in love?" This time the reply was much slower, the question side-stepped completely.

"I really don't see what the hell these questions will accomplish."

Sheila, now having to use both hands to stir as the disturbing substance became even thicker and held the spoon in place, took a deep breath; she knew it would be useless to try and further her questioning. When Tex didn't want to say something, that something was left unsaid.

XXX

Upstairs in his room, Church tried to ignore Caboose-who was on the floor beneath him-prattle on about Donut. Tucker was on the bed next to him, seeming to be concentrating fully on the game they played. Over on a chair in a corner sat Andy, paying them all no attention as he worked on the Rubik's cube.

"Amazing, Caboose. In this game, you can't hit your own teammates, yet you still managed to find some way to kill me," church mock-congratulated. Caboose looked up at him.

"Heh, heh. Um, oops?" he tried apologetically. The older boy let out a heavy breath.

"When I die in real life, I'm coming back as a ghost and haunting your sorry ass."

Tucker had not heard any of the exchange. While his hands were pressing buttons expertly, his mind was elsewhere. Namely, that inner little place in his head he hated to visit, though he frequented it as of late.

_No. absolutely not. I don't like Church. I don't like guys. I'm _straight, Tucker protested.

_Dude, you had a wet dream about him last night, again, _that damned little voice pointed out.

_I…I don't remember that dream._

_Repressed memory. But you can't deny that you woke up with morning wood._

_That's not saying a lot. I _always _do._

_Because of Church. _Tucker swore he snickered at himself.

_Go fuck yourself….myself…whatever._

_You'd rather fuck-_

_Finish that sentence and I will rot the rest of my mind with television and videogames, _the teen threatened.

_You just love living in denial, don'tcha?_

_Yeah. It keeps me warm in winter and cool in summer, _Tucker thought with little humor.

_You know what would really keep you warm? _An image popped into his mind-a very _vivid_ image.

"That's it, I'm ending this right now," Tucker growled out loud, subconsciously leaning closer to his controller. Church gave him a sideways glance.

"I seriously doubt you'll be able to take on a guy in a tank with nothing but a switchblade," the smaller boy scoffed.

Broken out of his self-involution and thrown back into reality, the dark skinned boy turned to Church cluelessly. His body's rhythm snapped, a finger slipped and his character accidentally stabbed Church's guy.

Wordlessly, the three looked at the screen. It took a while, but Church was eventually able to find his voice again.

"You…you both have found _impossible _ways to kill me."

"Tucker did it!" Caboose was quick to point out, happy that his time all the blame actually _could _be put on the other boy.

"That was totally an acci-ah!" Tucker shrieked as church suddenly lunged at him.

"No gay sex when I'm in the room," Andy said from the other side, eyes still trained on the cube.

Tucker couldn't send a comment back to the younger boy as he willed all the blood to stay away from one head and keep to another, his body reacting unfavorably to Church on top of him.

XXX

Grif put an extremely fat and jolly ole Saint Nick in overalls on a branch, next to a gingerbread man left over from the previous year. Opposite of him, Kerry was putting up candy canes as she sucked on one herself. Donut, humming as he stirred sugar cookie dough batter, stood and watched them. Helen happened to bein the kitchen at that moment, talking to Rob on the phone.

After another minute, she came out. Going to stand behind the couch, hands on the back gently, she told the teens, "Well, Robert will be late this evening."

"So, do you have any news, or are you just stating the obvious for the hell of it?" drawled Grif good-naturedly, fastening a white dove on a branch close to the top.

Ignoring his smart mouth she went on, "I told him about this sugar cookie tradition, but he didn't know what I was talking about."

"Unsurprising," Kerry said simply through her candy cane. "He's never here for them."

"Really now? Don't you at least save a few for him?" the woman asked.

"No. we eat them all ourselves," Donut told her, starting for the kitchen.

"You mean _you _eat them all," Grif corrected. The other boy stopped dead in his tracks. "Either you're pregnant, or you're getting fatter."

Slowly, Donut turned to his cousin. His blue eyes narrowed at the older boy's smirk in a way that promised retribution.

"Kerry, stab him with a candy cane, please-my hands are full."

"Sure," the girl agreed.

"Hey, I'm holding the ornaments, here," Grif reminded, knowing they'd value those over him. His sister shrugged.

"Can't hold 'em forever," Kerry pointed out.

"I can damn well try," he challenged.

There was a knock at the door and Donut went to go answer it; it was Simmons and Lopez. With a word of greeting, the blonde brought his hand up, forgetting that it held his stirring spoon.

Lopez wiped the dough from his face saying, "Te odio, Donut."

"Oops. Sorry 'bout that, Lopez," the younger boy apologized, letting them enter. Simmons snickered and his brother pushed him forward roughly.

As Donut went into the kitchen to finish baking the cookies, the other two ventured into the living room.

"Hey, guys," Kerry greeted, finishing off her candy cane as she hung up the remaining two.

"Hi," Simmons replied whereas Lopez only grumbled unintelligibly.

Grif, who had gone upstairs when Donut left to answer the door, came back down. Throwing a pair of thick black glasses at Simmons he said, "Here. You left them in my car."

"Thanks." In turn he tossed the tanner boy his shirt. Smirking, he crossed over to the smaller boy.

"Would've given you back your shirt, but why bother when we could _lose _some shirts?" he asked suggestively.

"Rabbits," Kerry commented in a sing-song voice.

"Bitch," Simmons threw back, eyes trained on his boyfriend.

They were about to go up where the other boy had just come from when Donut popped his head out and announced that the cookies were ready.

Grif and Simmons stood there for a second, conflicted. Then the latter compromised, "Cookies first, then sex."

"Lots of sex?" Grif asked like a needy child.

"Of course," the freckled teen assured as they started for the kitchen.

"You think the Cookie Monster has a cookie-sex fetish?" Kerry asked as she poured hot chocolate in five mugs.

"That's disturbing on so many levels," Simmons replied with a shudder of revulsion.

"Duh. Of course he does," Donut said with a dramatic eye roll. "Think about how he acts around cookies."

"You're right-he practically always has cookie-gasms."

"Madre de Dios…"

"The hell is wrong with you two?"

While those four were busy with their antics, Grif poured another cup of hot chocolate and took a few cookies. He went back into the living room, stopping behind his aunt.

"Here," he said, extending his hand around her. Surprise in the woman's eyes, she took them.

"Dexter…" she trailed off as he turned to go once more into the kitchen.

"They're pretty good. Donut's better at pies, though," he told her off-handedly. "Next year he needs to leave the cookies to me."

With that, she watched her nephew walk into the kitchen; by the sound of it, he hadn't been missed. Slowly, as if afraid it would vanish, she brought the mug to her lips and took a sip. Then she bit into a sugar cookie. It _was_ good.


End file.
